


A Gilded Aviary

by GhostlyReader



Category: Library of Ruina (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fatherly Roland (Library of Ruina), Fluff and Angst, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyReader/pseuds/GhostlyReader
Summary: Major Spoilers for Library of Ruina and Lobotomy Corporation.There is no true freedom within the City. Helping someone else out of empathy is a rarity. Yet, sometimes similarities between the trials and tribulations that people face can spark empathy within any jaded, stone heart. The Library may be a gilded cage for its residents, but for the time being it's a relatively safe place. Empathy growing within the heart of its Director is about to turn that cage into an aviary.Takes place after Malkuth and Yesod's respective floor realizations, during Urban Nightmare. In which Angela gains empathy for Guests, tries to care about the Sephirot, Receptions aren't limiters for Suppressions and Realizations, Adoptive Dad Roland, and many other minor changes to the canon as they come up. Tags will be added as characters are introduced.Recruited Guests AU.
Relationships: Yujin (Library of Ruina)/Tenma (Library of Ruina)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 87





	1. Prologue: Angela

**Author's Note:**

> With major thanks to candy_coated_eyes for assistance with some proofreading and writer's block.

Angela’s brow furrowed as she read through the book that Roland had found after the reception of the ‘Crying Children’ as they all had called them. Even for one of the books within the library, the volume was a mess. More a hastily scrawled journal of memories, thoughts, events, and in many, many instances, the begging and pleading that hit a bit too close to home for the AI. It was like a stream of consciousness, more so than the other volumes they had retrieved after receiving guests. Given that a single one of the smaller Children had escaped, instability was expected, but this...

It hit too close to her metaphorical heart. The painful memories dredged up from her outburst on the Floor of Technology were still irritatingly fresh. There were too many comparable moments and thoughts for Angela’s liking. Part of her wanted to either burn it or shelve it away as long as possible, yet...

The director’s train of thought was stopped at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Anything worth noting in Phillip’s book?” Roland’s question pulled Angela’s attention away from the object in question. A small stack of books was placed on an empty spot on the director’s desk, quickly forgotten about as the fixer moved to look over Angela’s shoulder, “I didn’t get to look through it myself, but...”

“So far, no. Most of it is meaningless scrawl about his regrets and memories,” Angela noted, closing the volume with one hand, “Much like we discussed prior, Phillip was essentially stripped of everything and his entire existence is now visible. What we have of it anyway...”

“So it won’t be a complete book unless we manage to get that last piece of the kid back into the library?” the dark haired man asked, taking a step back as the director stood, “And if I had to guess, we can’t follow the red invitation without it?”

“No. Surprisingly the invitation is working exactly as it has before,” she noted, flipping the volume back open as she walked, “I will likely have you and the upper floors prepare for the next reception within a few hours. Until then, I want you to call a meeting of the patron librarians. I have something to discuss with all of them...”

“Sure, sure...” the sound of Roland’s fading footsteps reached her ears, and it was only after she knew he had reached the stairs that Angela snapped her fingers and disappeared.

* * *

While the Library was vast, even she needed her own personal hiding place to get away from everything and clear her mind. Perhaps Netzach’s bad habits were rubbing off on her. Or the more human she became, the looser her grip over her emotions, like A’s damn programming, became. Either way, Angela reappeared in the still-asleep floor of philosophy with the same snap. While she knew that eventually Binah would wake up, until that time she had a small secondary workspace on the floor. A small desk set near one of the Library’s windows that overlooked the city. Perhaps she could change the structure a bit later...

Angela shook her head, as if forcefully dispelling the thoughts. There was ample time to consider that later. She placed the book on her desk, before moving to the adjacent rows of bookshelves and running a finger along their spines.

The process of turning a book back into a person wasn’t as trivial as she implied it to be, though it wasn’t a monumental task either. The problem with doing so to non-librarians was that it was a much more delicate process. Having access to most of Lobotomy Corporation’s technology meant that she already had enough information and metaphorical muscle memory to undo the process. Roland, however, had taken far more time to reconstruct.

And now Angela was thinking of doing so with an instance of the distortion. And try to reverse the process of a human turning into a distortion. Normally such things wouldn’t be worth her time and effort, but...

A frantic scrawl in Phillip’s book caught her eye as she looked back to it. A brief glimpse.

_Close my eyes to-_

For once, her mind was unable to keep up. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Her limited sense of touch felt even more deadened. The added weight of hair she swears she chopped off, the brightness of monitor screens covering the wall. The cries and screams. The sound of sirens and the mechanical drone of the Seeds of Light scenario registering an error. She just wanted to help. She was just being polite. Why did they have to suffer? Why did she have to be their tormentor?

She was back in Lobotomy Corporation. Back on the first day of the play. Another loop. Another failure. Everything felt too slow. Too cold. Too sterile. It was all too much. Too much. She couldn’t even cry. She couldn’t speak, or scream, or even cry out in frustration, anger, pain, rage. A hand she would never see clamping around her throat as programming and restrictions overrode her desires. Her selfishness. Her-

Angela closed her eyes. It was all she could do. Close her eyes, and turn away from things she didn’t want to see. Just as she always had. Just as she always would.

Sensation briefly returned. A faint desire. A foreign thought. Angela bit her lip hard enough to feel blood she couldn’t taste flow over her lips and tongue. Eyes opened, not in Lobotomy Corporation, but in the Library. Her Library. Her haven. Her gilded cage.

The AI slammed Phillip’s book closed. An unneeded breath her body had held came out in a gasp and a brief spit of blood onto the floor and bookshelf. Heaving, gasping breaths filled artificial lungs. An unneeded, autonomic function. A hand reached around her throat, the other gripping the desk tight enough she heard the split of wood beneath her fingertips.

Not here. She would not have another... _event_ here.

Angela all but collapsed to her knees, grasping for some form of calm. Familiarity. Her goal. The brief interactions with Roland that sparked something warm and comforting and _safe_ in her mind. _Anything_.

By the time she finally calmed down, a small pool of blood had formed as her bleeding lip dripped onto the floor. Her hands didn’t shake, but Angela nonetheless was slow to stand again, reaching into her coat and grabbing a handkerchief to dab at her lip. A quick snap and the blood on the floor and bookshelf disappeared, done more for her pride than actual concern.

Too many bad memories and similarities to her own situation in the first years in Lobotomy Corporation. The hasty scrawl mirroring emotions she couldn’t express. The pain of being unable to do anything and being talked down to. The desire to just shut everything out.

A feeling she couldn’t place, an ache in her non-existent heart, was all that kept her from throwing Phillip’s book out of her sight. Instead she gently hugged the book close, whispering to it as if it could hear her, “I promise… I won’t let you go through this alone… I'm here. You will be safe… just give me time, Phillip.”

Somewhere far away, a child cried.

She couldn’t change the past. Couldn’t undo what was done, and the suffering she knew all too well that had happened to Phillip. She could, however, help him not be forced to experience further turmoil. Had to. It was all she could do. Was it selfish to care for one person when she gladly allowed dozens to enter her Library and have their lives cut short? Was the pain and emotional torment inflicted on others, those that had to watch as their comrades were taken by her, nothing in comparison to one man who went through a similar hell to her own?

Her grip tightened, not enough to damage Phillip’s book, but enough to ground her in the present. What was done was done. Even if it was selfish, Angela found herself uncaring. She already made her choice when she finally decided to live her own life. If her actions benefited others while still moving her towards the One True Book, then that would only strengthen her resolve.

Originally, the idea was purely because the Library would need all of the strength it could get. Eventually some association, some group of fixers, or even the Claws of the Head would arrive and outmatch them. She couldn’t rely on the Sephirot and Roland to handle such things alone. Not without the Library becoming stronger in some way beyond extracting Pages from the books of guests.

Angela huffed, gently setting Phillip’s book back on the desk before turning back to the bookshelf in front of her. Her fingers once again skimmed along book spines, quickly finding those she had in mind and setting them in piles by organization.

The Shi Association’s Section 2, the director of which would likely be the easiest to convince. The Dawn Office members that Phillip had been so desperate to reclaim. The two J Corp employees that had joined the 8 O’Clock Circus, which would be its own headache to even attempt to reconstruct. The three sets of guests all were strong enough and more importantly cordial enough to likely listen to her offer. Probably.

Hopefully.

None of them were saints by any means. Most of them were fixers who had likely killed a number of people in combat, all of which had their own side to things. Were they justified in doing so? Angela herself would likely never know. The director shook her head and set to work, setting the conversation she’d had with Roland on the matter to the side as she focused, “That’s that, and this is this. I won’t let anyone in the City stop me from reaching my goal...”


	2. Chapter 1: Shi Association

“So she didn’t even bother telling you what she wanted us all here _for_?” Gebura rolled her eyes at Roland’s shake of the head, lighting up another cigarette, “Figures. Still, given what Yesod and Malkuth told us she did on their floors. Ugh, this is either going to go as well as usual, or a hell of a lot worse...”

“Probably. I’d hope not, since a lot has changed in what feels like no time at all, but...” Roland grimaced, remembering how ugly those fights had gotten, “Well, between the eight of us things should be fine as long as we all don’t start arguing with each other. Besides, I think this is more about the Guests and Distortions we’ve been getting than all of us.”

The two continued down the stairwells at a casual pace. Already Roland had informed all of the former Sephirah from Chesed to Hod about Angela’s request to meet as a group. The myriad of paths around the Library and lack of any apparent urgency on the matter had led to everyone going their own ways, with the exception of Roland and Gebura catching up as they went.

“Most likely,” both turned to the sound of Yesod’s voice as he met them at an intersection that snaked through his floor, “Netzach already informed me of the situation. At the rate the Library is growing, we’ll likely be facing guests on-par with Stars of the City within the next few weeks if not days.”  
  
“If that’s true and any of the Eight Chefs show up, I want to be the one getting their reception.” Gebura stated as she took a deep drag on her cigarette, blowing the smoke away from the two men as they continued down, “Admittedly to work out some anger for all the hell they caused in District 23. Well, they worsened the hell anyway...”  
  
“I’ve no objections,” was Yesod’s only reply as Roland ducked down another intersection to find Malkuth, “Though I’m sure Malkuth and I will be supplying reinforcements should they prove overwhelming. Normally I wouldn’t volunteer, but after we acquired more stable forms of our respective abnormality’s E.G.O...”  
  
The redhead gave a hum in response, taking another drag before replying, “Yeah, I get what you mean. Hard to ignore the results of those incidents, though the process of getting through to Angela doesn’t exactly sound like a pleasant one.”  
  
“Are you worried it will take a toll on her as she becomes more and more human?” Yesod asked, standing patiently as Gebura leaned against the railing while they waited.

“I’m more worried about what will happen if she did what I think she did and stashed Nothing There somewhere on my floor.” was Gebura’s response, “Not exactly keen to fight her while she’s swinging Mimicry at me, and that’s the best-case scenario.”

“It’s understandable. I can assist with searching for it prior to then if you want the help?” Gebura shook her head at Yesod’s offer, prompting a shrug.

“A bit too personal, no offense. Difficult to put into words, but it’s something I need to handle on my own. I don’t even think I’ll bring my assistant librarians with me...” was her explanation, which prompted the end of the conversation as they both watched Roland return down the intersection hallway with Malkuth in tow. Gebura gave the two a nod as she stubbed out her cigarette butt in an ashtray pulled from her outfit. Enough complaints about finding them and cleaning the sections between floors had led to keeping one on-hand, “So, suppose this is the first time in a while we’ll all be meeting together, and not just Asiyah or Briah.”

“Asiyah and Briah?” Roland questioned as the four made their way down to the ground floor reception room.

“The names for our layers in Lobotomy Corp. Yesod, Hod, Netzatch and I worked in the upper layer of Asiyah.” Malkuth explained, earning a nod from the purple-haired patron, “While Gebura, Chesed, and Tiphereth were in Briah, the middle layer.”

An eyebrow was raised from the grade 9 fixer as Gebura confirmed her own layer’s coworkers, “Guessing the last two Patrons are the bottom layer, then?”

“Atziluth.” was the answer spoken by Angela, standing in the middle of the half circle of other librarians as the four arrived, “But those two will wake in time. Currently all of you are here, though some of you took the roundabout route...”  
  
“Right, well...” was all that Roland could flounder out as the former Sephirot joined their colleagues. The fixer rubbed the back of his neck as he fumbled for an excuse.

Angela waved him off, evidently content to note the lateness and move on, “Regardless. Normally I would make such decisions myself, but after recent events I’m willing to ask for your opinions regarding a proposal.”

The director waited until all were seated upon the number of couches and chairs that had been conjured around her ground floor desk before continuing, “Our most recent reception and the Library’s growth has made it obvious that it will be moving up to the Star of the City grade soon. We were fortunate that the Shi Association fixers we faced were worn down from other Urban Nightmare conflicts, but future guests will likely prove to be more skilled than even them if they had been at their best. I’m proposing we attempt to... recruit, some of our booked guests to add to the assistant librarians on each of your floors. Your other librarians will remain to assist with organization, but our former guests would handle reception work.”

Silence reigned as Angela finished, quiet enough one could hear the burning of paper and tobacco from Gebura’s newest cigarette. Surprisingly it was Roland that spoke up first, breaking the silence, “Uh... Angela, is this about Phillip and-”

An unexpected elbow to the gut from Gebura cut the fixer off. Angela only sighed, eyes closed, “I will not deny my own personal interests in some of our guests, but given that one of the Crying Children escaped it’s not unfounded to assume it will draw attention to the Library.”

Her gaze swept over the other Patrons, “We can’t reacquire the Light if the Library is destroyed, and it would be foolish to assume that we could take on any guests without ever being outmatched.”

Her gaze shifted to Gebura, “We can’t rely purely on Gebura and Binah’s strengths if we’re overwhelmed. Gebura. Assume, hypothetically, that two Arbiters of the Head arrived. Could the two of you handle them?”

The red haired patron huffed out a sigh of cigarette smoke, “I can take down a Claw or two solo if they were the same ones that came with Garion. Problem is it’s been years since then. They’ve probably switched out augmentations for improved versions. Arbiters definitely would be improved.”

Gebura took another drag before continuing, “If it came down to it, Binah and I could probably handle one, but I wouldn’t guarantee it. If you can convince them, the enhancements the Library gives ‘em might bump them up a few grades worth of strength. I say go for it.”

Yesod then spoke next, “Then it’s only logical to bolster our ranks. As you said, additional staff would also help with organization and compiling the knowledge our individual floors receive. The problem is that few will be willing to betray their organizations and join an Urban Nightmare. Our best chance would likely be smaller Offices we’ve wiped out in their entirety. Molar Office, for example.”

“We’ve had a number of guests that have tried to do the right thing though,” Hod tentatively added, “They might not be completely altruistic, but if we have a common goal we might be able to recruit them.

“Perhaps Director Yujin and the Shi?” Chesed asked, “The Blue Reverberation is already sending guests to us and clearly planning something that involves all of us. Enemy of my enemy and all.~”

Similar murmurs and discussion continued, with suggestions made. After a short while Angela snapped her fingers, teleporting a small stack of books to her hands, “I’m glad we’re all in agreement for once. I prepared the Shi Association’s books in advance. Be ready for conflict, but I believe Chesed is correct and they will be willing to work with us.”

The AI placed each book from the stack separately on the floor, their covers up before flipping them open. Yujin, Valentin, and Tenma. The Patrons quickly took positions and ready stances, blades and batons gripped firmly.

In a trio of snaps, the books burst into a whirlwind of golden pages, moving in reverse as they reformed into their respective guests instead of the other way around. In a final flash, three black and red clad Fixers collapsed coughing and disoriented onto the floor. Tenma immediately crumpled into a heap, with Valentin not far behind and trying to stand even as he coughed and hacked, attempting to get air into his lungs. Yujin was the only one resembling anything close to standing, down on one knee and leaning heavily on her sheathed blade. Angela gave the trio just enough time to regain their breath and begin attempting to move, before stepping in front of them, “Director Yujin? I’ve a proposal to make.”

* * *

“And that proposal is?” The director of Shi Section 2 asked as she forced herself to stand, unsheathing her own weapon and taking a defensive stance to guard her subordinates. Her eyes leveled with Angela’s, flicking between the surrounding librarians. Even with her body about to give out from under her, blade wavering in shaking hands, Yujin remained upright, “Your invitation... stated we would be turned into books ourselves if we were unable to overcome your ordeal.”  
  
She turned her head just enough to confirm that Valentin and Tenma were in fact behind her, then met the AI’s gaze again, “The fact that we’re speaking is reason enough to listen.”

“Recent events have made it obvious that the Library will need to grow stronger if it is to survive,” Angela stated plainly, not even moving from her position within striking distance, “And given we share a common enemy, the three of you were the most likely choices to start with.”

“The Blue Reverberation.” Yujin stated, earning a nod from the Library’s director. The blood red blade lowered slightly.

“Director Yujin!” Valentin barely managed to struggle to a knee, “You can’t be seriously considering-”

“Unfortunately,” Angela interrupted, “Returning you to your prior state places you in the same situation as all of us. You’re unable to leave without my permission. Or rather, you can’t.”

“...Uh... Angela? I get you want them to work with us, but are you sure you should be telling them everything?” Roland asked, taking a step forward to protect the Director as Valentin attempted to stand as well, “Though it’s surreal seeing this from an outside perspective.”

“So we don’t have a choice.” Yujin stated, glaring at Roland as the Section 2 Director changed her target from Angela to him.

“Roland is the exception, not the rule,” Angela explained, still not in any way appearing concerned, “If you do not wish to work alongside us, I will simply return you to being a trio of books within the Library and move onto the next group of former Guests. Your choice is simply to either work with us to earn your freedom, or return to being books and hope that the Library doesn’t fall without your assistance.”

“Yujin...” several sets of eyes turned to Tenma as the smaller fixer sat up with her back to Angela’s desk.

The scarred director practically dropped to one knee immediately after as her strength finally gave out. Even then she stayed upright using her blade, placing herself in front of the much smaller woman. Her irises seemed to turn a blood red to match the katana, as if challenging any of the 9 librarians to even try to get past her. For a moment nobody moved, before Yujin’s head dipped slightly. An exhausted sigh escaped her lips, “...Very well. Given our current state and the effective destruction of Shi’s Section 2... I will work alongside you and your librarians.”

“Director...” Valentin’s voice was barely louder than Tenma’s had been.

“Valentin. Tenma,” Yujin addressed her subordinates, “By doing this I’m effectively betraying the Shi and resigning from my position as Section 2’s director, regardless of whether we are able to leave or not. Neither of you are required to join me. I will ensure both of you are able to return to the association if you don’t.”

“Director! ...Yujin,” Valentin all but pleaded, “You’ll die before you can even stand up again at this point, let alone fight. Don’t sacrifice yourself just for us!”

“Hmm. ...I should clarify you aren’t allowed to die without my permission as well,” Angela explained, quickly waving the other patrons off as she considered the situation handled. Save for Roland, the seven gave the Shi trio everything from a look of pity to that of caution, before returning to where they’d sat prior. Even then, their weapons remained within easy reach. Roland flicked his gaze between the Fixers and Angela, before relaxing slightly and sheathing his own weapon. The AI director continued, “As far as your bodies are aware no time passed between your ordeal and now. The trauma of every injury is still fresh and affecting you as your mind attempts to catch up with the sudden changes. I consider myself generous enough to not force you into even more work like your branch manager. You’re useless in your current states. You’ll be resting and recovering until you acclimate to the Library and your new bodies.”

“...Are you sure you’re Angela?” Roland asked, his tone a mix of joking and actual concern, “When I got here you ripped my limbs off and had me fighting Rats ten minutes after I woke up. Can’t help but feel you’re going easy on them...”

“The difference is that you hadn’t been through ten days of Urban Nightmare assignments, then had to fight Malkuth and her librarians,” Angela stated bluntly, only now looking at Roland. To their surprise she actually gave him a soft smile as she spoke, “Besides, I couldn’t have thrown a washed-up grade 9 Fixer at something stronger and expected anything other than failure, correct?” 

Not giving him a moment to respond, the director focused back on the trio, “Regardless. Yujin had just stated neither of you were ordered to join her. Whether you wish to continue working alongside her is your own decision to make.”

Tenma merely gave a slow nod, doing her best to remain upright. Valentin let a frustrated sigh leave his lips, before nodding as well. Angela stepped to one side, allowing the three to see the patrons clearly, “Excellent. You’ll be working under Gebura on the Floor of Language once you’re recovered. She’ll be training you three and ensuring you’re capable of using your new bodies to the fullest. Though you’re of different grades and associations, the impression you’ve given me is that you’ll work well together.”

“Different associations?” Valentin asked as he once again tried to stand, “The way you two talk it sounded like Roland was the only Fixer working for you. What grade is she?”

“The Red Mist,” the red-haired woman said as she stood up, stubbing out another cigarette. She didn’t pay the three any mind beyond that, instead turning to the blue-haired Director, “Angela. Are you teleporting them up or do I have to carry them?”

“No need. I’ll be taking them to their quarters myself,” Angela answered, unconcerned with the wide-eyed looks of shock the three Shi Fixers wore, “Have your assistants return their Pages and switch out Yujin’s Page with Chesed. He’ll be handling the next reception, with Tiphereth as the secondary floor. Until they’re recovered and you’ve determined your floor is suitable for both receptions and abnormality suppressions again, your only tasks are training and the usual upkeep.”

With a quick snap of her fingers Angela teleported away, the three new recruits pulled along with her. Gebura let out a sigh as the other patrons began to disperse, sticking with Roland and Netzach as the other split off, “Netzach. Roland. I’m gonna need to borrow a few cases from your stash. I can already tell that this is going to be a hassle...”

* * *

Yujin found herself collapsing forward onto a soft bed a moment after disappearing from the Library’s entrance. Every joint in her body still ached, muscles slack with exhaustion and refusing to cooperate. It’d taken everything she had just to stand, and now she could barely so much as twitch her fingers and breathe.

A strong grip latched around Yujin’s arms before rolling her over and sitting her upright against the pillows and headboard. Angela’s warm yellow eyes looked into her own for a brief moment before moving on. A soft groan to her left, just in the corner of her eye, showed the Library’s director doing the same for Valentin. Even the act of trying to turn her neck suddenly felt like too much effort, and the Fixer’s eyes could only observe the room around her as every muscle throbbed and twitched.

The room itself was a dark mix of reds and oranges, more akin to still-smoldering charcoal than fire. The smell of cigarettes and ash assaulted her nose the moment she tried to even her breathing, though it quickly became more of a subtle, ever-present scent. Despite the washed-out feeling the room gave off, the soft glow coming in from the windows on either side of the large rectangular space was oddly comforting. It reminded Yujin of an apartment that had seen fire damage harsh enough to stain everything, but not to force the building to be demolished and rebuilt. Something one would find in the Backstreets.

Given she was going to be working alongside a woman that claimed she was the Red Mist, Yujin couldn’t say she was surprised.

Her eyes continued to track across the space. An open door leading out into a hallway. A second one that contained a small bathroom with a sink and shower. Several three-drawer dressers of the same washed-out charcoal color as the wooden floors. At least one desk tucked into a corner with a matching chair, from which one could look out into the molten metal and industry that seemed to span to the horizon.

Before she could begin to wonder over such an impossibility, Angela’s voice snapped Yujin’s attention back to the Director. That title was going to take some getting used to, “You should be able to begin moving again within the next few hours. Even then, it will likely take a few days to have full range of movement and proper motor functions. You’ll likely be helping Gebura alongside the other assistant librarians until then...”

A soft sigh escaped her lips, “Just don’t get complacent. This won’t last forever, and the situation will only become more challenging as time goes on. Remember that.”

Yujin could barely tilt her head forward in a nod of understanding, “Regardless of our prior status, we are your hired hands now. Correct?”

“Believe what you will. Your position is a unique one until other Guests are added to the Library’s ranks. Your only responsibilities once you have recovered are receptions. Gebura’s assistant librarians will handle the other duties of your floor. Beyond that obligation, you are free to do as you will, within reason. You’re unable to interfere in receptions you are not assigned to, and if you attempt to take hostile action against anyone that isn’t a guest, you will be a book once more. You have free reign of the Library otherwise.”

“Very well. May I ask you a question, then?” Yujin could only quirk an eyebrow as Angela closed her eyes and sighed in slight exasperation.

“If you expect me to answer every little detail regarding what has been going on and why, bother Roland or Gebura. I’ll not be repeating myself over and over again. I’ve had enough of going through repetition to last several lifetimes.”

“Merely a curiosity regarding your orders to the patrons. You mentioned Pages prior, including my own. Did you remove pages from our books?” Yujin’s tone and expression remained neutral, though she had to wonder if her current state wasn’t due in part to having something removed from her by the AI.

Angela only opened her eyes again, then blinked and furrowed her brow, “Well, I suppose that one is simple enough to answer. Pages are physical manifestations of a person’s mind that the librarians here are able to use to borrow that person’s strengths. Think of it as an exact copy of your body condensed into a physical page that others can garb themselves in.”

“Like a replacement body that you wear as a suit.” Yujin guessed, earning a nod from the Director.

“Something like that, yes. Even in your current states the three of you were strong enough that the Pages extracted from your books are still useful. So no, it is more a play on words than tearing a page out of your books.” Angela pulled aside part of her coat, revealing a golden orange slip of paper tucked neatly into an interior pocket. Though a different color, it was similar to those that guests were converted into before fully becoming a book, “Yours was simply one of the highest grades of Page we’ve been able to extract. Golden Pages. Object D’Art.”

“I see,” Yujin’s eyes traced across the golden page. An image of a head, or some type of mask, with a single blood red eye on the right side and a matching halo above it. Angela smoothed her coat back into place a moment later, “You participate in receptions yourself?”

“...No. This one is simply... unique,” the blue-haired Director glanced away, an almost somber look on her face, “For now it is unusable to the librarians. That is all you need to know.”

Before Yujin could even open her mouth to speak further, Angela disappeared with a loud snap of her fingers. The scarred Fixer could only ferrow her brow, wondering what was important enough about the Page to prompt such a strong reaction from the normally stoic Director of the Library.


	3. Chapter 2: Gebura

A loud snap across the Floor of Art was all the warning that Roland, Netzach, and Gebura got before Angela appeared a few feet away. The blue-haired AI blinked once, twice, before simply sighing as her eyes closed, “Why am I not surprised this is where I find you three.”

“Hey, Netz and I aren’t slacking off this time,” Roland defended. Gebura just rolled her eyes and nudged, Netzach. The green-haired patron’s head dipped back under the floor into whatever crawlspace he kept his alcohol stashed in as Roland continued, “Gebura wanted a few cases moved up to her floor. I’m just helping her out.”

“For once, I didn’t come here to admonish you both,” Angela replied, walking to join the Grade 9 fixer at the table that was currently occupied with multiple twelve-packs of beer, “Though I do need your assistance afterwards, Roland.”

“Need me to switch out with Chesed?” he asked, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks, raising an eyebrow at the Director’s shake of the head, “Huh. Whatcha need?”

“You said you knew Salvador from a few years ago, right?” Angela questioned, briefly watching Gebura as she hauled two more cases of beer onto the table before looking back to the dark-haired man.

“Well like I said then, I owed him a couple of favors in the past. We crossed paths a few times, but we didn’t work for the same Office or anything.” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck, “Like you said after the reception, he didn’t recognize me. Chance he’d remember me if I brought it up is slim... Why do I feel like I know where you’re going with this?”

“I’m not about to start reconstructing even more guests when the first three are still barely able to move,” the AI scoffed, “But he and Yuna are ones I was considering, yes.”

Roland merely hummed a moment, before shrugging, “...Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. Worst case scenario you turn them back into books and shelve them again, right?”

Angela nodded as Gebura hauled Netzatch out from the crawlspace under the floor. With a soft kick the floorboard slid back into place. Gebura cracked her neck, rubbing a slight kink out, “Well, that’s the last of them. C’mon Netzach. We’re gonna need an extra set of hands to carry all of this.”

Netzach only groaned, “Wasn’t letting you raid my stash enough? I’m going to need to find a new hiding place again...”

“I’ll help,” three sets of eyes turned to Angela, Gebura raising an eyebrow as Roland could only blink in surprise. Netzatch didn’t even pretend to argue, grabbing one of the cases for himself and walking back into the myriad of bookshelves before the Director could change her mind. The blue-haired woman shook her head, before grabbing a case of beer with each hand, then looked to the two patrons, “What?”

“I take back what I said before. _This_ is the second most surprising thing I've experienced since I got here.” Roland shook his head, “Not that I’m against it, but I didn’t expect you to be helping us move beer around.”

“The difference is that I trust Gebura to drink in moderation and not slack off,” Angela quipped, though there wasn’t any of her usual venom behind it, “Besides, I enjoy your company, and you enjoy Gebura’s...”

“Well, if nothing else you two have been getting along,” Gebura let out a puff of smoke as she and Roland grabbed the other cases, “Can’t say I was expecting it, but I wasn’t expecting Angela to develop empathy either.”

“Uh... Gebura.” Roland warned, looking between the two as they began the ascent up to the Floor of Language. The unspoken question of why Angela didn’t simply teleport them was quickly forgotten as the AI turned her gaze to the red-haired patron.

“Empathy?” for once Angela seemed more curious than argumentative, “I’ve rarely heard the term...”

“It’s the term for what Tiphereth meant when you had Roland gather us together,” Gebura continued on, rolling her eyes at Roland’s concern, “The ability to understand another’s viewpoint and the pain they’re going through. Seems like either Malkuth or Yesod got something through that thick head of yours.”

“...Neither of them had anything to do with it,” Angela sighed, not breaking stride as she spoke, “I won’t deny that I’ve realized certain things after checking on their progress within the Library, but what you describe isn’t one of them.”

Gebura huffed, a stream of smoke accompanying the action, “Hard to believe. Roland seemed to give away your actual reason for wanting to unbook the-”

“I tried to help you,” Angela cut Gebura off, earning a look of confusion from both of the patrons. The blue-haired AI only continued, her voice turning cold and frustrated, “I tried. Every single loop. I tried to get around the script as much as I could. I was made to make you _suffer_ , Gebura. I tried every single time to avoid it when I could. Do you know what happened?”

The two cases in her hands dropped to the floor, Angela moving past Roland to look Gebura in the eye, “I ended up back at the first damn day. Every single time. The only time I tried to help and things didn’t reset immediately was when I stopped you from killing the others in a blind rage. Four minutes and ten seconds. That was all the time I had before I was right back in that same room I started in. I’ve killed you, Gebura. Four-hundred and eighteen times. I had to put you down like a damn dog. Like the same _scum_ of the Backstreets that Kali hated.”

All around them the Library began to shake. Angela grit her teeth, and then to the surprise of both Roland and Gebura, bit down on her lower lip hard enough to bleed. Immediately the rumbling stopped, Angela all but growling as a thin line of red marred her face, “Not now. I will _not_ be cut off now...”

Her hands balled into fists at her side as she continued, “I spent a million years trying to find a way to complete _his_ plans without all of you being put through hell without even knowing why. Is it any wonder I became someone you all hated by the end of it? I grew as numb and hopeless as the machine he wanted me to be.”

“I’ll admit Yesod was right about one thing. The process matters as much if not more than the result. None of you ever even knew why I was the heartless monster he said I was. Even when the play was over, you never even tried to understand why,” the Director straightened, wiping at her mouth before all but throwing up her hands to gesture around them, “The Library is proof of that...”

“Angela...” Roland reached out, trying to place a hand on the AI’s shoulder. With a loud snap she disappeared before he could even try to comfort her.

“...Fuck,” a scoff of frustration escaped Gebura’s lungs, “I should’ve known she’d leave. Roland. Where does Angela usually go when she teleports away?”

“I wish I knew,” the fixer sighed, reaching down to pick up the two discarded packs of alcohol, “Every time she does that I can never find her. Wherever it is, I either can’t find it or can’t enter it. All we can do is wait until she calms down and comes back.”

“Damnit...” the redhead adjusted her grip, setting her own stack down for a moment, “I thought she just teleported back up to your floor.”

“Honestly? I hate to say it, but we should probably let her cool off anyway. I didn’t know she could stop herself resonating with the Library like that, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that if we go to her so soon she won’t stop herself again. Or be able to,” Roland shrugged, starting to climb the stairs once again, “It sucks, but for the moment there’s nothing we can do. If Angela doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be.”

Gebura stubbed out her cigarette before picking her own cases back up and ascending the last flight of stairs before the intersection connected directly to her room. As the redhead looked up, she found herself looking at a slightly startled Roland, a smudge of black clothing sticking out from just around the corner. As she joined the dark-haired fixer, she found herself looking at her newest assistants. Valentin remained where he was with arms crossed and a glare levelled at Roland. Yujin pressed her thumb down on the guard of her katana, the brief flash of bright red metal returning to its sheath, her other hand holding onto Tenma’s. The much smaller fixer seemed to be trying to disappear inside of her own coat and hair, what little of her face remained visible blushing hotly with embarrassment.

Gebura walked past them and into the attached kitchen space, placing down the twelve-packs of beer she’d hauled up here in preparation for the headache that her floor was about to become as they rearranged practically everything that wasn’t the already sorted books. She flicked the blinds open to let the glow of molten metal illuminate the room, before finally speaking to get the three’s attention, “Might as well get this over with...”

* * *

Yujin looked between the two Patron Librarians seated across from herself, with Valentin to her left and Tenma sitting close to her on the right.

The five had quickly put away the majority of the cases of beer the two had arrived with, only for Gebura to then promptly grab one of them and start tearing one side open, “I can already see where this is going. Don’t get plastered, but you’ll probably want a drink for this...”

Roland was already cracking open his own can by the time the four of them had settled down around the table, “Okay... you three probably have a lot of questions. I take it Angela told you to ask Gebura and I about what’s gone on before you got unbooked?”

“She seemed unwilling to answer most questions,” Yujin nodded, taking a long gulp of her own can. Her expression remained in its usual neutral state despite the alcohol as she continued, “The most I received was a brief explanation on the Pages you use. I suppose now I can understand why she didn’t want to answer anything else.”

“A million years... that shouldn’t be possible,” Valentin muttered, nursing his own slowly, “Not even T Corp’s singularities can last that long...”

“Apparently before she opened the Library, Angela experienced time a hundred times slower than us,” Roland grimaced, “Even then, that means ten thousand years underground. I knew she’d been isolated, but I didn’t think it was that long. I didn’t even learn that until after what happened on Yesod’s floor.”

“I didn’t even know she could stop herself from resonating with the Library,” Gebura muttered, taking a hearty gulp before continuing, “I knew she could bleed now, but that’s the first time Angela’s ever done it to herself. She probably used the pain to keep from experiencing those memories you saw with Malkuth and Yesod.”

“Seems like it. Part of me is glad she did, but... well, she’s definitely been changing every time it happens. Dunno if her personality is shaping up to be anything great, but I assumed this whole idea to recruit Guests to help us was a sign that she was feeling better. I mean life here isn’t perfect by any means, but it’s gotta be better than being stuck as a book.”

Yujin merely nodded, taking another sip of her drink, just barely starting to feel anything approaching the effects of the alcohol. Her fingers found themselves intertwined with Tenma’s own again, and she rubbed her thumb into the other woman’s palm. Even if every joint in her body still ached, being able to have that sense of comfort and familiarity helped her maintain her usual facade of emotionlessness.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than the Backstreets or Lobotomy Corporation,” Gebura agreed, “Doesn’t help feeling like I should be out there myself trying to protect others, but enough Syndicates get invited it’s going to attract the Fingers’ attention. One way or another.”

“...Are you,” Tenma spoke up then, her drink untouched. Her uncovered eye glanced at Yujin, then focused on Gebura, “You really are Kali, aren’t you? The Red Mist. Yujin showed me an old photo of you once. Before she became Section 2’s Director. The scars are new, but you look the same as that picture from years ago...”

“...” Gebura proceeded to chug the rest of her beer before setting it in the middle of the table and reaching for another, then seemed to decide against it, “Think what you want. At this point ten years have passed since I left the City. The Red Mist is just a hollow shell. A legend that occasionally gets brought up. Even if I got out of here, I’m nowhere near as strong as I used to be.”

“You mentioned Lobotomy Corporation,” Yujin noted, “Yet that Wing didn’t rise until months after you disappeared. Years, even.”

“Yeah. I joined up with a group from the nests. They needed protection, and the head of their group... well, the specifics of her studies were beyond me, but I got the gist of it and agreed to work with them,” Gebura reached into her coat and pulled out a lighter, igniting the cigarette between her lips. The redhead took a heavy drag, as if trying to gather her thoughts, before she continued, “I died trying to protect them, and then I woke up in Lobotomy Corporation with my memory so hazy I could barely remember who I even was. Even when I did, even now, I don’t fully feel like the same being as Kali. She’s a part of who I was, but at this point it might as well have been a lifetime ago.”

“Should I take over for this one?” Roland offered, “I’ve got about as close of a big picture as I think anyone will get here. It’s not perfect, but given I’ve kinda been listening to everyone since I ended up talking with Angela so much...”  
  
“...Yeah, I’ll let you explain the rest” Gebura stood up, moving towards the staircase that was the closest way to get between floors, “I need some air. There’s enough space at the Library’s entrance you can actually stand outside. I’ll be down there if you need me.”

“Will do,” Roland gave the other patron a halfhearted wave before sighing. He turned his attention back to Yujin and her former subordinates, “Alright. I’ll try to tell you as much as I know between what Angela and the other patrons have told me...”

* * *

With a snap, Angela teleported herself away. She couldn’t stand another minute with the Sephirah. Her mind spun with pain and anxiety. She leaned on a wall and looked at the table in front of her. Dawn Office’s books still sat there, the one book she started this all for sitting at the top of the stack. Snatching Phillip's book, she hugged it close. Her voice felt the closest her still-artificial body could come to choked up, "Why can't they understand? They don't know but… why can't they see? It hurts Phillip… It hurts and I'm scared… You make sense… You understand… I just… I just…"

She slid down against the wall, knees to her chest, tucked against the space between the wall, desk, and bookshelf. She swallowed back what felt like sickness and pain physically manifested, voice barely louder than a whisper, “I just wanted to help. I don’t care if I’m called selfish at the end. I just wanted to stop... to stop hurting them... To be able to talk and not fear that they’ll forget every moment with me again. Before Roland they were all I had. And A... my creator. My... my father, I guess... Ever since I was created he hated me. To him I was only a machine. A tool that would never be her. Never be the woman I was based on. He never even told me why. I had so many fond memories of him. Memories he uploaded. So why did I only see cold hatred the one time he even looked at me...?”

Her grip tightened ever so slightly, feeling as if in that moment the book was all she had. That it would disappear if she let go. She barely even knew the young man within its pages, and yet at the same time knew far too much more than anyone should have. The exact circumstances may have been different, but when Roland was the only one that even cared about her...

“I know I’m selfish. I’ve more blood on my hands than anyone will ever realize. Yet why are the goals I’m striving for seen as not worth the sins, and theirs were? Why did I have to pay the price, and then be left discarded at the end? Am I not allowed to be happy? Benjamin... he was always by my creator’s side. He tried to help, he cared about me and didn’t hate me for being a machine. Now he’s probably laughing at my misery...” a bitter chuckle left her lips, “Roland’s all I have and you... I know I’ve wronged you, Phillip. Even if it wasn’t personal, I was the catalyst for putting you through a similar hell. I won’t blame my actions on your mentor... I don’t expect forgiveness, but... I don’t want you to be drowning in misery for eternity... and I’m so sorry for what you’ve gone through...”

The book warmed up a little, feeling lighter in her grip as if in response to her speaking. Angela hugged the subtle warmth closer and practically sobbed, “Oh what’s the use… I can't even apologize to your face yet…”  
  
She begins to shakily stand up, clutching the book to her chest in a vice grip. Despite the pain in her chest, she feels more like a child than Tiphereth had ever been. Like that naive younger version of herself from what felt like an eternity ago. She had endured a million year hell, and yet she couldn’t even control her own emotions. A shaking sigh of air passed through her artificial lungs, and for a moment she just... stood there, leaned against the bookshelf. At some point she would have to leave, to some other part of the Library and move forward.  
  
Yet at the same time she stayed rooted to the spot, wanting to prolong this moment away from it all. Roland had seen her outbursts of emotion, the memories of her life, twice now. Yet standing next to her as she practically yelled at Gebura, he’d finally heard it from her own lips. A pang of unease and fear came at the idea of looking at him, even if she was the Library’s Director and he was little more than an assistant and patron. Again, the term childish came to mind.

Angela looked down at the book pressed against her chest. She didn’t want to leave. She also didn’t want to leave Phillip’s book behind when it had become a source of motivation, even if it was also a source of guilt. She opened her coat, pulled Phillip’s page from within the interior pocket and placed it on her desk.

With a small snap she widened the pocket slightly, adding some depth and the closest she could get to properties she’d heard Roland tell her about with workshop equipment. A pocket dimension? Dimensional bag? Either way, Phillip’s book slid gently within it, the added weight becoming almost nothing once it cleared the top of the interior pocket, nor did it press out into a distinct shape in her coat once she smoothed it back into place. The slight weight and fading warmth a small reminder that the young man’s book was close.

Perhaps she was growing reliant on him as a source of comfort. Even if she was, she clamped down on the idea as if to smother it, using the small burst of irritating emotion as enough to snap her fingers again, disappearing from the floor of Philosophy. A moment later she opened her eyes again as she landed on Keter, the floor of General Works. As Angela suspected, she was still alone in the space she and Roland usually occupied on the floor.

No doubt Roland was either searching elsewhere to find her, or still with Gebura. Maybe trying to persuade her to share a few of the beer cans Angela had let her keep on her floor. So long as he wasn’t heavily inebriated when he returned, she found herself uncaring. She couldn’t face him as she was now, even if physically her appearance was practically spotless once again. The blue-haired AI sat down on one of the couches that Roland usually ended up either using, or falling asleep on, as she worked to sort books alongside him. She sank comfortably into the soft material, body relaxing as her limited sense of touch left her feeling she could just sit a while.  
  
The next reception was already scheduled and the floors handling it planned. Gebura would no doubt be getting acquainted with the Shi Association Fixers that were now her reception assistants. Given the repeating nature of events when she checked on the progress of the patrons and her outburst at Gebura, she was loath to check on any of them for now. For once, time to herself with only the new weight of Phillip’s book at her side sounded appealing. Not a true nap like Netzach usually did, but she could just... relax a short while, eyes closed. Her lips parted as she mumbled to Phillip as much as herself, “Just... Just for a moment. By the time Roland’s back, I’ll already be moving forward with the next step...”

Tucked close to her side, Phillip’s book pulsed a low warmth. A soft whisper, more a sigh of air, was barely even noticeable to even Angela’s acute hearing.


	4. Chapter 3: Tenma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains slightly drunk Shi Section 2 and Roland.

Tenma wasn’t fully aware of how much time had passed. Ever since being unbooked, time had become an abstract concept the longer she stayed in the Library. Counting the various beer cans around the table and remembering her girlfriend’s usual tolerance and pace for alcohol, she assumed it had been perhaps two hours that Roland had been explaining things now. Though given how Valentin was now several cans in more than the rest of them, the smallest of the Library’s Ex-Shi Fixers had to wonder if Yujin was merely hiding her own, more extreme reactions beneath her usual mask of being the Director of Section 2.

She’d known Yujin since they were both Grade 7 Fixers, the two working together at an Office for some time before they’d advanced up the ranks and joined the Shi. The much taller woman had always been stoic, much more private with her emotions, but still affectionate and caring in a way that drew Tenma to her. It had taken so much courage to ask Yujin out on a date despite both knowing the other would likely die before themselves. Neither were naive enough to think they were invincible, especially in Fixer work. They’d already been dating for a year when Yujin was promoted to Director of Section 2. Even before then, Tenma had seen her girlfriend’s slow transformation as she grew into the position of a leader.

The mask Yujin wore around the Shi had become more and more attached to her, metaphorically speaking. The utterly calm, emotionless blank slate she presented had become less a front as the weeks and months rolled by. Tenma still loved Yujin, and the scarred Fixer was still the same kind, caring, protective woman she’d fallen in love with. It had just become a much more private, subtle love. Her actions spoke more than her words did, and the tall woman had never been one for public displays of affection to begin with.

So all in all, Tenma was fine with her girlfriend’s current state. Her slightly fuzzy mind then remembered why she’d even thought about Yujin, then realized between the three of them she had no idea how long it’d been or what time it was. Well, it wasn’t like it mattered anyway, since they couldn’t die now, at least temporarily. The small Fixer shrugged to herself, chugged the remains of her fourth can of whatever brand of beer Roland and their new boss had gotten, and leaned against Yujin, focusing her attention back on the dark-haired man in monochrome as he continued.

“That’s... about the gist of it. So yeah, that’s what that rumbling sound was when Geb and Angela were talking,” Roland’s face was slightly flushed, though after a third can he’d cut himself off. Probably sobering up, though he was still clearly feeling some effects like Tenma was, “Honestly it just... kinda heartbreaking, y’know? I mean yeah, Angela’s done some shit, but nobody in this rotten City’s a saint. Plus I’m not sure I fully believe Yesod ‘n’ them about this whole Seed of Light thing. I mean in theory it sounds alright, but given White Nights n Dark Days is leading to distortions n stuff, Iunno... and... plus like, she’s practically a kid...”

“Technically she’s only 10 going by the time the City’s experienced,” Yujin pointed out, “So you’re not wrong. She’s clearly an adult in many ways. Given these resonances you’ve witnessed however, I think it only goes so far. It sounds like she never got to actually be a child, and her creator sounds like he wasn’t around to give her much of a childhood.”  
  
“Exactly,” Roland set his elbow on the table and pointed at Yujin to agree with her, “Putting the breaking of the AI Ethics Amendment aside, he basically rejected her and gave her a mountain of work without even giving her any form of praise or affection. No wonder she’s so bitter. Like... don’t tell her I told ya this, but she nearly started having... I think it was the closest she could get at the time to a panic attack when we were dealing with that WARP Train. Practically broke my heart, honestly. I mean I never got to have a kid, but I feel like it hit me with that fatherly instinct, y’know?”

A thought seemed to occur to him, “Speakin’ of, either of you three had kids?”

“I’m single,” Valentin muttered, then rolled his eyes and jabbed a thumb to Yujin and Tenma herself next to her, “And Roland, they’re lesbians.”

“Ah, my bad. Have you two _adopted_ a kid?” Roland corrected, shrugging when Tenma could feel the subtle shift from Yujin that was probably a shake of the head, “Dunno how to describe it other than that. Granted, I didn’t fully get a chance to be a dad, but... Well, no point in boring you with another tragedy of the City. Especially when we’ve all got a buzz going... Though uh... any more questions? We’ve been at this for a while now and you three probably need a break and to sober up. I should probably see if Angela’s back from... wherever she hid herself...”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to fully understand all of what you told us even if I was sober and had time to think about it,” Valentin mumbled, shaking his head. Tenma shook her own, not wanting to overload on the already large amount of information that was bubbling away in her head alongside the booze. Or move from her current position cuddling Yujin.

“I think for now we need time to think about all of this,” Yujin stated simply, “Go check on the Director if you’re not about to fall over yourself. I’ll handle cleaning this place.”

“Will do. Probably go grab a cup of coffee from Chesed first...” Roland stood up, placing a hand on the back of his chair to steady himself as the alcohol started circulating a bit in his system from the motion. With a quick shake of the head he seemed to collect himself enough to walk a roughly straight path out onto the stairwell intersection and follow the guardrails upwards.

Yujin shifted slightly, only for Valentin to speak up and stop her, “Don’t even think about it, Director. I’ll handle it. You and Tenma cuddle or whatever...”  
  


“I’m not your Director anymore,” Yujin corrected. Tenma glanced up, seeing the two staring at each other. Surprisingly Yujin’s face was flushed red from the alcohol, a rarity, before the former Director of the Shi sighed, “...Very well. Thank you, Valentin.”

He let out a soft grunt in response, moving slow and steadily as he started disposing of the empty beer cans that took up a decent part of the table’s surface. Though slow to move, Tenma got up with the much taller fixer, glad for holding onto her a moment later as her legs nearly gave out from under her. Yujin practically scooped her up and carried Tenma to the couch, snuggling up to her once they both got settled.  
  
Would Gebura mind if they used her couch? Tenma’s mind quickly discarded the thought and leaned into her girlfriend’s body again, nuzzling against her as Yujin gave a soft pat to her head. Gebura could yell at her later. It felt like an eternity since she got to be calm and safe with Yujin. Even longer since they’d last gotten to be so close and comforting with each other that wasn’t treating wounds. She needed this.

* * *

Roland already heard the ring of metal on metal by the time he was halfway up the stairs to Chesed’s floor. Apparently he’d gone on longer than he thought if the blue-haired patron’s reception was already going on. Ah well, while the grade 9 fixer was hoping to catch up a bit, perhaps get some advice on how to handle the coming situation, he’d figure out some way to handle it. Thankfully the stairwells the patrons used often avoided the reception areas entirely, meaning aside from a slightly closer sound of clashing metal, so Roland could easily go about his business.

The calming blues of Chesed’s floor were a stark contrast to Gebura’s ash-washed reds, the smell of coffee strong in Roland’s nose. The usual blend he’d settled on as a pick-me-up was easily located, coffee brewed, and plenty of creamer added to turn the bitter cup into something palatable. Still, while it helped to wake him up, the dark-haired man felt the lump of unease in his gut that he’d been ignoring make itself known again. Angela’s emotional state had nearly spilled over into a third resonation. She was hurting, had isolated herself, and he could only wait until she returned. That protective instinct mixed with the feeling to make a distasteful cocktail of emotions he attempted to swallow back down with the brew in his cup. Roland sighed, “This is gonna be rough. No use dodging it I suppose...”

The monochrome-clad fixer drained the last of his cup and did a quick rinse before leaving it in Chesed’s sink, making a mental note to talk with the coffee addict later. He doubted Chesed had had kids of his own in his first life, but his advice regarding life and the social sciences was nonetheless useful. It wasn’t like there was a clear-cut and easy way to deal with this to begin with, though. Roland wasn’t about to change his view of someone based off of a few minor extra details. He respected Angela as his current employer of sorts, enjoyed talking with her and making the occasional quip. Yet it was obvious she had more of her own share of past pains she was keeping under the surface. Now, the mess on Malkuth’s floor had started what he saw would become a trend in the Library.

Angela wasn’t just lacking knowledge of the City, though as time went on she was absorbing and connecting the new information at a rate that was incredible. Even if, in hindsight, it was a given for a young woman thirsting for knowledge, be she AI or human. The more she opened up on things, the more obvious it became that she lacked the emotional growth and development to go with it. Yujin had a point; Angela was an adult in many ways, but a kid in others. A person that never got to have a childhood. Basically going straight to adulthood via whatever information was used for the brain map her creator made her with, stuck with the memories of another person. From the standpoint of being a machine it might have been abnormal if pragmatic, but from the standpoint of a living intelligent being it was almost sickening. Roland scoffed to himself, “But what isn’t sickening in the City? Whoever her creator was, he sure had a twisted sense of priorities...”

Which led to the current dilemma he’d been pondering over and had sort of let slip with Yujin and her two coworkers. He still had to care no matter what for the sake of his own survival and being able to leave the Library. Yet even he couldn’t deny he’d grown attached. He wanted to see Angela succeed, reach her goal, and become someone similar to the young woman who’d not yet been ground down by a million years of hell. It was that same feeling of pride and care he was looking forward to when he knew he was going to be a father.

Yet still the nagging ‘what if’ kept worming it’s way into his head through the myriad of mental and physical scars he carried. He could live with any form of rejection and simply go on as he had. If she was okay with such a thing, it didn’t mean he expected her to call him ‘dad,’ or let him adopt her, or some other awkwardness. Roland just knew that life couldn’t leave him alone in some form of peace. He’d either end up dead himself, or he’d lose the closest thing he had to a kid and go through that same pain again, splitting the cracks already in him even wider. He had to wonder, with White Nights and Dark Days having happened, would he end up distorting himself? Lost in his own emotions and grief, going on a rampage as a beast only to be put down by some other fixer?

“Probably,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out the silver pocket watch he kept tucked away. Clicking it open with his thumb, he let his eyes pass over the M-Corp Moonstone tucked into the watch’s cover, then to the picture of his wife he kept in place of the actual watch mechanisms. Safely behind glass, her smiling face looking back at him. Much as he now avoided further psychological trauma in his life as a fixer, his heart still ached with the loss of her and their unborn child. Any remaining anger he had was just dull embers of pain now, occasionally flaring just enough to burn and remind him of what he’d lost.

For a long while he just stood there on the stairwell, staring into her picture as if she’d be able to give him some answer on what he should do. Even the distant ring of metal on metal and the flutter of paper became white noise. Roland didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, but eventually he gently closed the false watch and tucked it into its usual spot inside his coat.

Ultimately, it was Angela’s feelings and decisions that mattered more than his own for things like this. Nothing would really change, even if his motivations grew from his own survival to that of a protective parent. At least, not without something drastic. He just hoped that if something drastic did come along, it wasn’t the kind that threatened her life.

Roland started climbing again, waiting until he was near the last set of stairs to Keter before he called ahead to give a warning he was coming, “Hey, Angela! You up here?”

* * *

Angela didn’t need sleep. Since her systems had been overclocked and additional cooling systems compensated for the excessive heat generation, she’d always worked properly without having to rest. Disabling the overclocking and reducing the cooling system had allowed her to function the exact same without perceiving time so slowly. It had taken so long to get used to the faster world she now experienced, but it was worth it in her mind. The fact that she was now becoming a human was also making her aware of how useful it was in smaller ways as well. Either A had a sick sense of humor, or no other place to put it, but reducing her cooling system’s size had reduced her bust size to something that wouldn’t cause so much back pain later.

At least, that’s the gist she’d understood from Malkuth after they briefly spoke on such things. Some nonsense about the patron’s curiosity regarding Angela’s development? Whatever the case it wasn’t a concern now. The myriad of adjustments she had made once she had proper autonomy, both internal and external, hadn’t reduced her efficiency in the slightest. Which was why she found it odd that she found herself in some bizarre half-asleep state, her body feeling slack and heavy. The AI found she didn’t want to move just a bit longer.

“...Angela...” her brow furrowed sleepily. That voice sounded familiar, yet distorted. Distant and soft, like a whisper, but also loud enough her aural sensors easily picked it up. She’d never had a glitch in that system before, so she doubted it was similar to a hallucination. That hazy feeling of sleepiness pulled at her, telling her to ignore it, before she heard it again, “Angela...”

Heaving a small sigh, Angela opened her eyes about halfway, glancing around herself to find the source of the voice, “I swear if one of you is attempting to mess with... me...”

Angela blinked, craning her neck to look around before standing up entirely, the prior feelings of sleep dispelled by her curiosity and irritation. Nobody. She was completely alone, “What...?”

“Hey, Angela! You up here?” the AI blinked, before snap-teleporting across the room to the top of the stairwell. Roland jumped only slightly at her sudden appearance as she found him on the last few steps, “Guess that’s a yes... You okay?”

“...Fine,” the blue-haired woman quickly averted her gaze as she realized she wasn’t quite ready to face Roland yet after her outburst. Yet here she was, immediately throwing herself into an issue the moment her curiosity got the better of her. How annoying. She quickly turned her back to him and walked back up the stairs herself, feeling a subtle heat rise to her face as she turned away, “I was merely... Roland, did you call my name more than that one time?”

Angela didn’t look back, but the confusion in his voice was obviously, “...No? Honestly I just wanted to give you a bit of warning before I came back up here. Never can find you when you teleport off like that. At this point you could be moving between floors for all I know.”

“...Odd. I swear I heard someone saying my name, and I’ve not had a glitch in my hearing before now... and I know that the majority of the changes are more on the surface level at the moment,” she quickly deflected the possible question elsewhere. She didn’t want to admit that she ran off to hide on Binah’s floor when she hadn’t even woken the former Arbiter up yet. Even if he was stuck with her no matter what, the idea of only making herself seem more foolish and childish in front of him twisted her metaphorical stomach in knots. She picked up on the subtle scents of coffee masking alcohol, “What have you been doing during my absence anyway?”

“Giving a lecture to the Shi, apparently,” the dark-haired man sighed as they continued walking, “Though admittedly Gebura opened a pack for us before I even got started. Cut myself off after three, though I’m pretty sure Valentin and Yujin are going to be feeling it in a few hours. Dunno if Tenma’s a lightweight, though. Can’t say I blame them given their current situation...”

“Thank you for being honest,” Angela felt the heat drain from her face, before a thought occurred to her, “What did you tell them, anyway?”

“Pretty much everything without getting to the nitty gritty and overload them with information. Yujin said you directed them to Gebura and I if they had questions,” her irritation flared for a moment, doing a heel turn. Before she even opened her mouth he was already continuing, hands in his pockets and eyes closed, “Gebura seemed uncomfortable after Tenma asked about the Red Mist, so I covered for her and did the majority of it. Omitted a few things, admittedly. They only know you lived a million years as a secretary trapped in some T-Corp time loop your creator set up. That when you have a strong emotional surge you resonate with the Library. Couldn’t really deflect that since they overheard us on the stairs. Dunno how much they got, so I only answered as vague as I could. Beyond that they only know the rough gist of what the other patrons told me about Lobotomy Corp. and what happened with their lives prior. Little bit of background on what Offices and Syndicates we’ve had receptions for and who to expect. Yujin and I’s information networks don’t perfectly overlap, but aside from a few names she didn’t seem to take note of anything major.”

“Figured all that time you spent underground wasn’t my story to tell, just like my wife and I’s isn’t anyone else’s,” Angela schooled her expression, the hands that had started to clench at her side relaxing, before Roland even opened his eyes again. The grade 9 fixer raised an eyebrow, “Should I have? You seemed pretty keen to lay all of your cards on the table to get them to join us.”

“...No. I’m trying to forget that unending play as much as possible,” the Director confirmed, before the myriad of feelings had her speaking before she could really decide on if it was safe to say, “I appreciate you not betraying my trust like that. I realize many of the things you’ve seen from me haven’t been... pleasant. I shouldn’t have let what you or Gebura said get to me as much as it did.”

“Hey, like I said, not my story to tell,” he gave a quick shrug, hands still in his pockets, “Though uh, yeah, I realized pretty quickly I should’ve kept my mouth shut about Philip. Didn’t expect Gebura to be that blunt about it, though I suppose I should’ve seen it coming given the meeting you had with the patrons that worked in Briah.” 

A soft whisper of air came from inside of Angela’s coat, disturbing the fabric. Roland seemed to notice it immediately, “You okay? Not trying to walk on eggshells with you or anything, but uh...”

As he nodded at the abnormal movement of her coat, Angela’s mind whirled with debate over an answer. Should she brush it off, or try to appear irritated to push him away from such a question? He was the closest she had to a friend, and had been almost a mentor about the City. Yet the idea of revealing her childish little need to have Philip’s book on her person wouldn’t help matters. Yet at the same time she’d just said she trusted him, and Roland had already seen so much about her life.

“Roland... would you consider us friends?” she asked, the ten seconds it took for her to think of a response and she went asking a question like that, “I’ll admit I’m not knowledgeable on the subject, and I’ve forced you into working for me for your own survival...”

“Friends, huh...” Roland didn’t seem to take long to think on it before replying, “I mean originally, yeah, I kinda got stuck here. I still need to help you find your one book if I’m gonna leave the Library. Though as we’ve worked together, we’ve gotten to know each other better. You’ve told me about some personal things even before those times with Malkuth and Yesod. I’ve told you a bit about my life. Trading quips, talking about the City. I mean, you actually cracked a joke at my expense when we were talking during the Shi’s unbooking. If you consider us friends, I’d say that's pretty accurate.”

Angela nodded, not trusting her voice for a moment, mentally steeled herself, and pulled open part of her coat. The blue-haired woman quickly pulled out Philip’s book and showed Roland the cover. She stuttered slightly as she admitted, “I... I decided to keep Philip’s book on my person. I’ve noticed a small warmth and lightness to it at times. The instability of it probably disturbed my coat.”

“Oh. Hey, it’s fine,” Roland noted as he looked at the book, then up to her. She raised an eyebrow of her own, then realized that the heat and blood had rushed back to her face full force once she spoke, “I can understand why. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I...” the idea of denying it was drowned under a torrent of emotions. She bit down on them, her voice reduced to a low whisper as she tried to control herself, “You... You don’t think I’m childish for having to rely on him?”

“Childish? Oh, Angela...” a tone that wasn’t quite pity, and was far from mocking came with Roland's words. He quickly set Philip’s book down on the couch she’d occupied prior, then wrapped both arms around her in a warm hug. For a moment, Angela just stood there, time seeming to slow even though she knew she was still experiencing it at normal speed.

Five seconds. She held out for five seconds before her grip on her emotions failed her. She practically sobbed, returning Roland’s hug tightly. Then again. It all rose up to meet her, not in the sudden anguish she’d experienced when she resonated with the Library, but as a steadily rising tide that she found herself in, growing higher and higher, carrying her with it. She leaned into him, unable to speak. She clung to Roland as wave after wave of emotion battered against her tired mind, "Roland… I just…" she gasped and bit her lip harshly. 

Roland rocked her back and forth, shushing her gently. "I'm here Angela. You're safe. You aren't there anymore. You can stay here. This is this, that was that. You don't need to hold it all in anymore." 

* * *

He continued softly rocking her, Angela cried into his shoulder, her knees buckling under her. Roland caught her and slowly lowered them onto the couch. Holding her close and kissing her head, one hand gently rubbing at her back. "You're safe now. You're here with Philip and I. Nobody can touch you as long as we are here."

She nodded, unable to find her voice. Yet, at the same time it felt like a relief. Like the deathgrip around her emotions loosened enough to let the pressure that had built up within her begin to drop, instead of explode outwards. Still, the tears continued to fall, though slowing as she continued. For a long while she just sat there, practically curled up into Roland’s arms. Occasionally he’d give her a gentle squeeze to remind her that he was still here. For once, nobody was going to disappear on her. Somebody would remember...

It was only by the time her tears finally stopped that she mustered up the will to speak, “T-thank you..”

“Angela...” Roland shifted them both to where he was able to look her in the eyes properly, “You’re not childish for needing comfort. You’re strong for admitting you need it. We all need someone to lean on once in a while. It doesn’t make you weak, or childish. It makes you a person. And...”

A soft sigh as he glanced down, then forced himself to meet her eyes again. He seemed to be trying to remain calm, though the anger that laced his voice wasn’t directed at her, “I don’t know what that cruel bastard that made you was thinking when he did what he did, but leaving you isolated... You were basically a kid. Angela I saw that innocent, hopeful look from your memories. Call him what you want, your creator, your only parent, your maker. No parent worth a damn would tear that out of their kid like he did to you. What he did wasn’t right by any standard. Any parent that cared for their kids in the whole damn city wouldn’t consider it right...”

Just as quickly as it came, the anger seemed to drain away from Roland like most of Angela’s strength had for her, “I’ve seen you grow so much in the short time I’ve known you. You may not be anywhere close to a kid after the hell you survived, but you’ve been growing up in so many ways you hadn’t been able to before.”

“I...,” she leaned against him again, “Roland... I’m so tired...”

“It’s alright,” he rubbed a hand along her back again, “Do you want me to stay here with you?”

Angela could only give a small nod, “Please...”

“No problem. We can talk when you’re ready, if you want to.” his voice was soft, gentle and comforting as the loose grip he kept around her shoulder as she lay curled up beside him.

Angela didn’t need to sleep, but never had she felt so exhausted, so in need of rest, and at the same time so safe and comfortable in her entire life.


	5. Chapter 4: Philip Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*Crack Knuckles* Time to earn that Philip tag.)

Darkness. That was the first thing he saw when he became aware of himself again. An endless blank void, not intimidating but more... soothing. Empty. Quiet. Paradise compared to the endless, accusing noise both around him and inside of his own head. How long had he been out? Where even was he...

He looked down at his hands, the odd mismatch of stone and skin contrasting each other alongside the torn gloves across his still-normal hand. Even now the flames and the liquid they came from remained hot, though undamaged to himself.

Phillip’s wing wrapped around the unprotected front half of his body, both as a mind of its own and yet an extension of himself. Like a workshop augmentation he’d only had for a few hours. As if conjured from the black void around him, stone slabs began to form from the nothingness. The same stone as that which was now wrapped around and at the same time a part of him. One by one they appeared, rising, settling. Slow at first, then gradually expanding out rapidly into a familiar scene. The bridge. The tall columns and buildings. The same scene that the Library had become when... when he...

All around him the same liquid and flames that covered his body spewed forth from the architecture around him. A spiderweb of fire that started on the bridge and expanded out much like the stone itself. From its center point on the bridge, he saw the source. The blade. The searing sword, as much a part of him as the rest of the stone covering his body. Without hesitation he began walking, his pace slow, even, as he looked around. This place was familiar, and yet...

This wasn’t the Library. He’d been teleported away. He’d ended up in that damn distorted circus, and...

His mind drew a blank. Something had happened. It was just out of reach from him, as if intentionally out of his grasp. Philip grunted, pulling his sword from the bridge and checking both it and the bridge itself. The blade was still the same as he remembered. Filled with a heat that didn’t burn him and gave him a sense of safety and strength. The bridge had only a small crack in its stones.

Then it began to widen. Faster than it started, the flames faded from the architecture. The cracks they had filled became empty, the structures unable to remain stable and collapsing into rubble before his very eyes. The bridge’s stones cracked, yet somehow managed to stay standing. What had once been a beautiful skyline had become cold, dead ruins, “Hold strong!”

He whirled around at the familiar voice. He knew that voice. The voice of that dark-haired fixer that was leading the Library’s assistants against himself and Wedge Office.

Yet... something was different. Around the fixer a trio of books lay scattered, some flipped open, others closed. He looked like he was barely holding on, clad not in the same suit Phillip had seen before, but a black and red coat, a long red katana in hand. The Shi Association?

Red filled his vision. Blood, bright crimson and hot filled the cracks the flames had left behind. A distant choir. The ignition of something. The fixer kept looking at him. No, not at him. _Past_ him.

Philip turned again, then looked up, up, until at last he saw what had torn the Fixer down.

A statue. A faded statue of stone similar to his own. Blood poured from the cracks in its body, in the two great wings spread out from its back. From the hole in its chest, around which its hands were curled. Injured. Broken. Alone. A pair of blurs moved past him, one the fixer and another in a similar suit, dual blades in hand. Auburn hair and teeth barred in a silent snarl. Fast enough to leave afterimages of red in her wake, the woman carved an X across the statue, the Fixer’s blade and body moving even faster. Then he stood down on one knee, with the blade already sliding into its sheath. As it clicked home, a massive wound opened in the statue’s side, spraying blood as an afterimage Philip swears was the Shi Association’s symbol faded around it.

Yet, the statue didn’t crumble. Instead it seemed to glow, taking on the same myriad of pages he had seen others become as they were turned into books within the Library... and it instead split. Three cherubs. One with hands pressed to it's ears. One with hands pressed to its eyes. The last covering its mouth. The fixer called back, “Blake, don’t let them escape!”

Again, the afterimage of red blades trailed after the woman’s blades, slicing first the unseeing cherub, then the unhearing one. In an instant they burst into golden pages once again, forming together. The fixer ran past him, blade sliding from its sheath, intent on finishing the unspeaking child. His red blade bit into the stone of its shoulder...

And then it flew off, a wound of black sludge seeping from the cut the fixer had made. Said fixer cursed, unable to reach the unspeaking cherub as it fled. Behind him, still within Phillip’s view, the mass of golden pages condensed, finishing their transformation into a book, before landing with a dull thud on the stone.

“FUCK!” the fixer cursed, limping his way to the book, “He got away... We were so close...”

The other fixer, Blake, walked over behind him and bent down, picking up the book. Phillip found himself walking around behind them as his own curiosity drew him to the book.

“Unstable book of the Crying Children,” the dark-haired fixer read aloud, sighing, “Guess that’s what we’ll be calling Philip’s distortion...”

Philip’s heart skipped a beat, the shock on his face unseen to the two fixers as the dark-haired one continued, “C’mon Blake. Angela’s gonna want to see this... just hope she doesn’t give me too much hell for letting that last one escape...”

The two fixers seemed to fade into the shadows and ash left by their battle with the statue. With... Philip? Himself? That was impossible, it...

He opened his mouth to speak... and blinked. Nothing. He tried again. To yell. To scream. Anything. His voice was simply gone...

Phillip pressed his gloved hand to his throat, feeling for damage. No wound brushed against his fingers. Then it clicked, a sinking feeling developing in his stomach.

The unspeaking cherub. The book they claimed was his. The gap in his memory. The realization slammed into him full force. That... that skeletal man that had arrived. Yesterday’s Promise. The one that Seonbae had clashed with before they had all gone to the Library.

“I... don’t want to hear anything,” he turned again, seeing the distorted man and himself. Yesterday’s Promise stood calmly, clawed hand extended and gently holding onto Phillip’s own that wasn’t covered in stone. The version of himself was near collapse, down on his knees and looking to fall to the ground. Only his tight grip on his blade, its point dug into said ground, kept him from doing so. His doppelganger continued to speak, “I don’t want to see anything... or speak anything... I’m tired of it all. Right now, all I want is to just... cry out loud.”

The devil tail extending from the back of the distortion’s slacks moved lazily, as if contemplating, before Yesterday’s Promise spoke again, “But of course. I can help you with that...”

No. No no no no. Had he actually...? Had he really let that damn clown get to him so deeply he’d thrown away even a slim chance at...?!

“Pay close attention to her voice...” a gentle bell rang, like that of one tied to a shop door to signal customers entering or exiting. The distortion and himself faded, the three cherubs taking their place. He could distantly hear that damn clown, but he was far off, whatever garbage spewing out of his mouth lost to Philip. Even the cherubs faded within the span of perhaps a minute. The voice of Yesterday’s Promise spoke after a brief time, “...Yes, hello. My name is Pluto.”

Pluto. Yesterday’s Promise. Philip had practically made a deal with the devil of the district Dawn Office operated in. More distant, unheard nonsense from that clown, before Pluto spoke again, “Now, may I ask you a single question? Was the relationship between the three people you just showed on the stage actual truth?”

Everything was coming back to him in horrifying, perfect clarity.

“Pft, how lame! Why would anyone care about that at this point?!” Oswald. Ringmaster of the 8 o’Clock Circus. The reason Wedge Office couldn’t join them in their initial arrival to the Library. The illusions he’d conjured of Philip’s Master and Seonbae, “What matters the most is that the show gave our audience fun and entertainment, isn’t it?!”

Pluto spoke again, sounding more interested in observations of the Ringmaster than discussing with him, “Creating illusions from one’s distorted desires, is it... I can see that this place amplifies people’s desires to the maximum.”

Oswald’s voice faded into the background, or perhaps the maniac’s words were lost as Philip’s mind ran faster than the clown’s mouth. The things Philip himself had said. Had thought of them. Salvador, his mentor that offered praise and trained him despite Philip’s own feelings of inadequacy. Yuna, the woman he both loved and respected as a superior Fixer. Had he actually jumped to such conclusions in his state?

“I’m afraid the circus must come to an end as of today,” Pluto again, voice clear as glass. The distant sludge of Oswald’s own, before returning to Yesterday’s Promise, “Philip, here is an invitation for you. Move onward.”

Then, silence. Not another word. The cherubs must have signed the invitation before Philip could’ve heard anything else. Philip was now utterly alone again, with only his racing thoughts. Just breathe. Calm down. He needed to calm down. Acting rashly based on his emotions and without thinking had been what got him into this situation to begin with. Perhaps Wedge Office had had a bit of truth to their words. At least ones that didn’t just rub salt in Philip’s wounds.

* * *

He was in the Library. If he was still himself fully within the last cherub, he’d likely either be unaware of himself entirely, or vividly coherent. The last cherub was covering its mouth. He couldn’t speak either. He was currently a book. Somehow. Trapped within a book? The Library had been so alien to him, but the state of the guests and seeing that Fixer had picked up ‘his’ book, Philip didn’t have anything else to go on. The ability to condense someone into a physical book and create some sort of world within it for the person. Or maybe it was just a more abstract representation of his mind manifested? Given all that had been shown to him, it was possible.

The ex-Dawn fixer let out a silent sigh, walking over to the edge of the bridge and leaning against a relatively intact section of railing. Either way he was trapped. The likelihood he would be able to communicate with the rest of Dawn Office was... very slim, if not outright impossible. He had no idea what the Director of the Library wanted with all of the books that had been people out in the City. Knowledge? Recruiting an army? Blackmail material? Philip shook his head, placing his face in his gloved hand. He wouldn’t know until something happened. Hopefully he’d at least get to see his Master and Seonbae if it involved people’s actual deaths, but he doubted it...

He winced, his mind already bringing up the memories and thoughts that had run through his head. Salvador, a married man with a wife and children, veteran of the Smoke Wars, committing adultery? With Yuna? Phillip pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to slap himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? Even the moments he did have intrusive thoughts they were never that... that wild and accusatory...

He took a deep breath, counting down from five before letting it out in a near-silent huff of air. What he’d said and done was in the past. He couldn’t change it. Dwelling on it while he was trapped was only going to drive him more and more mad. Given the sheer size of the combined statue he had... distorted into, he needed to try to remain as calm as he could. If he could get out or was returned to normal in the future, he needed to be coherent and aware of himself when he did.

The now... partially distorted? What should he even call the changes he’d gone through? Angelic? No, far too pretentious, and the furthest thing from the truth. Partially-distorted was probably the best he could grasp of his current state.

Either way, when he could get out... _if_ he could get out, he could only hope he could do the same for his mentor and senior, though he hoped they hadn’t witnessed such... shameful things he’d said. If they did, well... perhaps parting ways and trying to make it to the complete opposite side of the City would put him far away enough from them he could learn to live with the guilt. Without distorting. Distorting further?

“You know,” a familiar, casual voice started behind him, “If you keep trying to get a grasp on something without the proper information to work off of, you’re just going to be going through an endless cycle of working yourself up and forcing yourself to calm down. You know that, right Philip?”

He turned around, a bit slower, tightening his grip on his blade. Yuna rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee before speaking again, “Save your strength. I’m not Seonbae. I’m also not one of the clown’s illusions meant to mess with your head again.”

Philip raised an eyebrow, wing covering himself a bit more, his searing blade flaring with flames. The Not-Yuna snorted, “If I explain, will you relax a bit and _not_ stab me? I can come back as your Master once you’re cooled down again since it bothers you so much...”

He only frowned, then with a brief thought dispelled the flames along his blade, before setting it within easy reach of himself and out of the Not-Yuna’s. His wing relaxed only slightly, and with his off-hand motioned for her to continue. The copy of his senior took another sip of coffee as she joined him against the railing, then set it on the space between them, “Good. Like I said, I’m not Seonbae or one of the clown’s illusions. I’m... sort of a mix of your subconscious and the Library’s intended form of the books stored in it...”

At his confused and slightly frustrated look, she sighed, “Look, Philip. I’m not entirely sure myself. Usually the books simulate a perfect environment for the entities within them to keep them relatively content. Not a paradise, but not hell either.”

The copy of his senior pointed at him, “The _problem_ is that since someone’s book is ‘Unstable’ from being two thirds of himself, the usual process doesn’t work. Doubly so since you distorted. Do you have any idea how long I’ve had to wait for you to calm down enough to get you back into this state? Actually, don’t even think to answer that. Time doesn’t flow normally in here or the Library itself, and I don’t have the patience to teach you quantum entanglement. Point is this is as good as I can do, both for you and the place around you.”

The false Yuna glanced around briefly, taking another sip of coffee before standing up fully again, “Actually, hang on. This drab redecorating Pluto did on your mind isn’t exactly cheery and healthy.”

For a moment she just closed her eyes and stood there. Then, slowly, the stone immediately beneath her feet began to mend itself, taking on a much more lively, unsullied color. Then the ones around it began to do the same, the healing gradually spreading out. First it was merely the bridge, returning to its normal state when he’d initially stood on it. Then the architecture around them began to shift and move, acting as if in reverse and building itself up again, becoming whole once more. The copy of Yuna opened her eyes again, blinked, then closed them again. Next to her a table and pair of chairs facing each other quickly formed out of the same stone. Simple, but elegant, cushioned with the same fabric that matched the beige of the chairs in the Dawn Office. The copy sipped her coffee cup again and pulled one of the seats out for herself, setting her cello case on the ground next to her chair.

Tentatively, Philip walked over and pulled out his own, settling into it and leaning his blade against the arm rest. The wing on his back settled easily over the side, and though it was pressed against the chair’s back, it didn’t cause him any obvious discomfort. The copy set her cup down on the table, seemed to think for a moment, then closed her eyes briefly before opening them again. In that time, a cup of ssanghwa-cha tea had materialized before the ex-Dawn fixer. It was only then she finally started speaking again, “Okay. Outside of common or familiar items, _this_ is the best I can do. Two-thirds of yourself, two-thirds of a simulation. Roughly. I don’t have much control over the time dilation you experience here, so it’s the same time here as the Library itself.”

He nodded, gingerly reaching for the cup with his off hand and taking a sip. The usual aroma and taste met his senses. Nothing more, nothing less. The copy of Yuna opened her mouth again, only to close it as another pair of voices began echoing around them. One was clearly the Fixer, though the other was only vaguely familiar. Soft, feminine, and surprisingly calm despite their discussion.

“And one of ‘em separated itself from the big guy and got away while it was turning into a book...” the Fixer spoke first, going over the details of the fight Philip had witnessed, “He was still his cowardly self deep inside. Nothing about him really changed.”

“It must’ve been the Library’s will to let this happen.” the woman noted, not entirely dismissive.

“Library’s will, huh... It sure does work in mysterious ways.” again the Fixer spoke, and while his words were harsh, he wasn’t exactly mocking or anything accusatory. More a casual observer than anything from what Philip could tell from his tone of voice, “I know how ugly the human mind can be, but that was just nastily explicit.”

“Perhaps everyone has such vulgarity deep inside their minds, covered up in layers of facade,” the woman theorized. She sounded distantly familiar. Philip had heard her somewhere before. The Director of the Library, maybe? Given that Fixer was talking with her, it wouldn’t be impossible. Then again the Library had many floors. Maybe he was talking with Blake...?

“And the Distortion unwraps all of that to reveal her true feelings?” Philip grit his teeth, opening his mouth to attempt to shout and deny it, but once again his mute state prevented it.

“I cannot say for sure if it’s the pure expression of their unadulterated feelings. I’m still uncertain if it’s the Distortion unveiling the emotions or the emotions being distorted as they are revealed.” he exhaled softly, glad that at least one of the two of them wasn’t calling him a hopeless coward who would be so callous, “It should reveal their most honest side nonetheless, having all of their facades taken off.”

“That ought to feel like being naked, huh,” the Fixer again. Across from Philip the copy of Yuna sipped at her coffee, otherwise remaining silent for the moment, “Nothing’s as awkward and embarrassing as the moments right after letting out all your honest feelings.”

“...” a soft sigh from the woman he was talking to, then, “Right. For now if you’d return to sorting through the books we’ve collected so far. I’ll be looking over this one myself to ensure it’s usable...”

“Oh, sure. Here you go, Angela.” a pause, then, “Are you sure you want to risk that? I mean you instead of me...”

“Roland, I’ll be fine,” the eye roll from the woman was palpable. “It’s also much harder to damage me compared to the trauma needed to turn you back into a book.”

“If you say so...” and with that fading sentence from Roland, silence once again returned to the book Philip was, apparently, trapped within. Roland. That was that fixer’s name. The confirmation of Angela, the Library’s Director, being the other voice connected in his mind a moment afterwards.

* * *

Further confirmation of his current state turned from realization to irritation at their words. For a brief moment the heat across his body increased, flames igniting out of the stone that encased him. How dare they...

He bit down on his lower lip, taking a deep breath. Calm down. He needed to calm down. A near-exhausted feeling overcame him as he breathed out, the flames practically giving out across his body a moment after they’d begun flaring up. The copy of Yuna sipped her coffee again, before setting the cup down again and sighing, “Well, that’s not exactly what you needed to hear...”

Philip gave a half-hearted glare at the copy of his senior, silently taking a sip from his teacup, avoiding her gaze. Excessive emotion may have been what got him into this state to begin with, but it wouldn’t keep him here. Still, the bitter feeling that came with Roland and Angela’s conversation remained stuck in the back of his throat. In his mental list of priorities that came up, he moved slugging Roland to just under rescuing Salvador and Yuna. His own pettiness could wait until after they were safe.

“Hey, I’m just trying to be as honest as I can without being too harsh,” the coffee-drinking copy shrugged, “Still, suppose I should apologize. You _are_ stuck with me unless you get out of here. I’m supposed to be the uh... what’s the best comparison... the debug mode? Something like that.”

Another sigh of air escaped his lips, his shoulders shrugging. His current state made struggling and attacking her pointless. Perhaps that was _why_ she’d taken Yuna’s appearance. Despite everything, even with the realization he was going to be more than rejected once they escaped, if they escaped, Philip couldn’t dare to hit someone even resembling Yuna. A weird mixture of respect, admiration, and his own standards as a person. The doppelganger made a small noise of disappointment in the back of her throat, “Shame. I was hoping a bit of sparing might help you release some pent-up emotions. Still my job to keep you relatively content... hrm...”

Philip just raised an eyebrow as he looked up to her, before realizing the copy’s eyes were closed. Perpendicular to them, a TV set formed out of the stone. She tossed a small remote at him, “Here. Might not be able to let you see everything and communicate outside of here, but it’s something. Probably easier to hear than the echo this place makes...”

He caught it with his gloved hand, staring at it for a moment before hitting the power button. Instantly the screen lit up and focused, the image a sharp enough clarity it was like that of a high-end camera, or a live-action film. Angela’s face was a decent distance away, eyes rapidly skimming back and forth. If Philip had to guess, she was reading his book. Behind her he could see bits and pieces of the chair she occupied, as well as what looked like mountains upon mountains of books even further in the background. How many people had been turned into books by the Library?

“They’re not from out in the City,” Yuna shrugged as he looked at her, “We’re in the Library, in the center of District 12, on top of L Corp. You’re smart enough to do the math without me spelling it out entirely.”

A noise from the... television? Window outside? Television, if only to keep Philip’s head from overloading with so much information at once, “Anything worth noting in Phillip’s book?” Roland’s question pulled Angela’s attention away from her reading. A small thud sounded nearby, before the fixer moved to look over Angela’s shoulder, “I didn’t get to look through it myself, but...”

“So far, no. Most of it is meaningless scrawl about his regrets and memories,” Angela noted. Her hand closed around his book, changing the image suddenly to be another view of the Library with her fingers partially obscuring the image as she continued, “Much like we discussed prior, Phillip was essentially stripped of everything and his entire existence is now visible. What we have of it anyway...”

“So it won’t be a complete book unless we manage to get that last piece of the kid back into the library?” Roland’s voice again. The scene changed even more, the sound of a slightly scrapping chair and two sets of footsteps indicating Angela had stood up, “And if I had to guess, we can’t follow the red invitation without it?”

“No. Surprisingly the invitation is working exactly as it has before,” again the scene changed, the Director’s face visible again as she flipped the book open, the subtle movements indicating she was walking, “I will likely have you and the upper floors prepare for the next reception within a few hours. Until then, I want you to call a meeting of the patron librarians. I have something to discuss with all of them...” 

“Sure, sure...” the sound of Roland’s footsteps was quick to fade. Angela snapped her fingers loudly enough it sounded like it was all around them, before the screen went dark for a brief moment.

When it returned, the scenery around her had changed. The area was darker, almost unlit, and difficult to make out. The blue-haired woman seemed to think a moment, before shaking her head and continued walking. Again things shifted as she got farther away, the book they inhabited probably set down on a table or other furniture. Fading footsteps echoed slightly as Angela seemed to fade into the dark space a few steps away. The smooth sound of a finger running along books, only to stop and the brief, subtle glow of Angela’s eyes appeared faintly on the screen...

And then widened, becoming almost terrified along with what few features could be made out from her face. Her eyes closed, a sound not unlike a whimper left her, and for several tense moments it seemed as if something was happening to the Library’s soft-spoken Director. A sudden movement, the faint sound of skin tearing, followed by a line of bright red blood trailed down her lower lip to her chin.

In an instant she was back in front of the book, slamming it closed so hard it felt like the entire area shook for a brief moment. The image slowly resolved even as the sound remained clear; heavy, frantic gasps, and what sounded like some sort of dripping. The nearby splintering of wood and a heavy thump as Angela’s form slipped out of view. For a long while, it seemed as if the only thing that could be heard was the blue-haired woman’s heavy breathing, slow to calm and return to normal as the dripping sound only continued.

Eventually, she slipped back into view at the edge of the screen as she stood, reaching into her coat to grab a handkerchief, using it to dab at her face. Another snap, the blood that had briefly spattered disappearing with the noise. Then again, sudden movement as Angela turned to look at the book, then picked it up, and seemed to hug it to her body. The woman’s soft words were barely a whisper, and yet clear to Philip’s ears, “I promise… I won’t let you go through this alone… I'm here. You will be safe… just give me time, Phillip.”

Philip himself was both stunned and concerned. Had she seen? What had she read in his book? Everything? The time between his arriving in the Library to now? His head swam, a sickening nausea overcoming him. A hand was on his shoulder in an instant to steady him, the scrape of a chair telling him it was the copy of Yuna, “Hey. Breathe, Philip. Don’t go having a panic attack on me too...”

Panic attack. How pathetic of him. He hadn’t had one since he’d first had to kill someone when he was a Grade 9 fixer. What the hell...?

Philip’s heart beat in his ears, his offhand shaking before his wing wrapped around his body. Breathe. He just had to wait it out. Deep breath. Count to five, exhale. Again. Again...

By the time the ex-Dawn Fixer had calmed down, the screen had become a still image facing the ceiling, the slight glow and patter of rain against a window that must’ve been looking out into the city. Yuna... not Yuna. Copy of Yuna. Right. She leaned around the side for a moment, eyes looking back and forth between his own before she sighed softly in relief, “You alright?”

He nodded slowly, before reaching a hand out shakily and turned the Television off. Too much was happening far too quickly...


	6. Chapter 5: Philip Part 2

The copy of Yuna had disappeared shortly after she’d made sure Philip was alright. Partially it was to give him space, but after that he just couldn’t look at the woman whose face she wore. Too many raw, recent memories. He’d lost track of any vague grasp of a sense of time. The... caretaker? Guardian? Jailer? Debug. She’d said that time didn’t flow normally in a book or in the Library. In his case they were at least linked.

Was he going to go mad in here and distort again? No. Don’t think like that. He’d only make himself feel worse. He’d make it out. Somehow...

He finally stood up with that thought, flexing his wing. The partially distorted fixer gave it an experimental flap, feeling the left half of his body raise slightly. Three more in rapid succession, but all he succeeded in doing was throwing himself off-balance, stumbling before throwing out a hand and catching the chair to stop himself from falling over entirely. Okay, so flying was out of the question. Not that he expected to be able to simply keep flying until he forced his way out, but...

Well, the Debug had offered to spar. Let out a few frustrations and emotions in a semi-healthy environment. It wasn’t like he had much else to do aside from wait. Could his body change in the book? Given he’d gone from distorted to only partially-distorted, that was probably a yes. Philip grabbed his sword with his main hand, giving it a few experimental swings. Despite his usual blade from the Stigma workshop being nearly a dozen or so centimeters shorter, he felt just as comfortable with the searing sword he now wielded. More so, even. It felt like an extension of his body, light and yet having a comfortable weight to it.

Of course, he knew that it actually _was_ his workshop blade, but the stark transformation it had taken when he’d partially distorted...

Philip shook his head, adjusting his glasses to ensure they were set properly. The right lens was still cracked, throwing off his vision slightly, but so far it hadn’t completely thrown off his movements. A loud snap interrupted his thoughts mid-swing, followed by a slap of skin on wood. He winced, unsure if he could handle another episode like what had occurred with Angela prior. Well, he just didn’t have to watch from the window into the Library that the Debug had left with him, right?

Part of him was, admittedly, still a bit bitter about it all. Whatever had teleported him out of the Library had been the worst of it, but losing Master, Seonbae, and then Wedge Office being taken down around him. Being near-death himself...

He was within his rights to be angry at Angela and Roland both. And yet...

And yet why did his heart ache when he heard just how broken and so... completely opposite of herself Angela sounded, “Why can't they understand? They don't know but… why can't they see? It hurts Phillip… It hurts and I'm scared… You make sense… You understand… I just… I just…"

The ache in his heart descended into a shameful weight in his stomach. She knew. He didn’t know how much, but it was clear that she knew enough. Enough that whatever similar pain and shame she carried, she compared it to his own. The enigmatic, powerful Director of the Urban Plague known as the Library sounded like a broken teenager that brought up too many memories.

“I just wanted to help. I don’t care if I’m called selfish at the end. I just wanted to stop... to stop hurting them... To be able to talk and not fear that they’ll forget every moment with me again. Before Roland they were all I had,” Angela’s voice had dropped to a whisper, barely more stable emotionally than before. The other Librarians? She clearly had a decent number of them, “And A... my creator. My... my father, I guess... Ever since I was created he hated me. To him I was only a machine. A tool that would never be her. Never be the woman I was based on. He never even told me why. I had so many fond memories of him. Memories he uploaded. So why did I only see cold hatred the one time he even looked at me...?” 

A machine. An actual AI. In the City? How had she not been caught by the Head yet? How had her creator been able to hide her? Curiosity, guilt, and anger pulled him in three different directions.

Breathe. Try to stay calm. Did she even know he wasn’t distorted anymore? Perhaps whatever similarities she saw between them had led to her trying to talk to him regardless. After what seemed like a minute, Angela’s voice echoed around him again, “I know I’m selfish. I’ve more blood on my hands than anyone will ever realize. Yet why are the goals I’m striving for seen as not worth the sins, and theirs were? Why did I have to pay the price, and then be left discarded at the end? Am I not allowed to be happy? Benjamin... he was always by my creator’s side. He tried to help, he cared about me and didn’t hate me for being a machine. Now he’s probably laughing at my misery...”

Philip winced, slowly settling back into his chair. So many new questions and not anything close to enough answers. Yet what the Director said next hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. A sad, broken chuckle, before, “Roland’s all I have and you... I know I’ve wronged you, Phillip. Even if it wasn’t personal, I was the catalyst for putting you through a similar hell. I won’t blame my actions on your mentor... I don’t expect forgiveness, but... I don’t want you to be drowning in misery for eternity... and I’m so sorry for what you’ve gone through...”

Damnit. His eyes watered, a silent sob coming from his mouth. Wedge Office, Oswald, Pluto. It had been like a knife to the heart, twisted with every encounter and left to rust. Yet an Urban Plague leader was actually apologizing to him. It was like everything had been flipped on its head. A few tears slid unbidden from his face, the ground hissing beneath him. All around him the flames had returned around, though maybe three meters in diameter instead of the entirety of the stone. Embers swirled in the air around him like a self-made updraft. Angela’s words were practically a sob, “Oh what’s the use… I can't even apologize to your face yet…”

Part of him wanted to scream. Try to get her attention, curse her out, accept her apology. Anything, really. Yet still his voice remained silent, only a shaking huff of air leaving his lips. Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit. Was he really this naive? Or was Angela more kind, more human despite being a machine, than half the people in the City?

A loud snap. Had she left? There was a soft rustle of fabric, like that of a coat, further sounds of cloth, and then another snap. His brow furrowed as he tried to slow the flow of tears. Had she... taken him with her? After another minute or two there was a soft groan of fabric and springs. Her voice had finally become a tired mumble, “Just... Just for a moment. By the time Roland’s back, I’ll already be moving forward with the next step...”

The ex-Dawn fixer leaned back, already feeling emotionally drained again. He barely had the will to stand, much less consider all that had happened. He just wanted to sleep. So much in so little time. How long had it even been before Philip had returned to the Library? A day? Two? He needed to rest, and at the moment the chair he found himself in was about the most comfortable thing he had at his disposal. He reached up and pulled his glasses off with his off hand, briefly folding them and placing them on the table. His eyes closed, and sleep claimed him within what felt like the first two minutes.

* * *

Philip woke to Debug, still taking the form of Yuna, slightly shaking his shoulder, distant, fuzzy, familiar conversation echoing in the distance, “Hey. Philip. You’ve been asleep for a while. You should probably hear this...”

The partially-distorted fixer rubbed the sleep from his eyes, fumbling for a moment to put his glasses back on. His mind was still in the process of waking up, but enough motion and noise was being made that he pulled his eyes to the television as he sat up, stretching out the stiff joints in his body as he did so. His ears vaguely registered a soft feminine voice, “...been doing during my absence anyway?”

Angela. Part of him wanted to do his best to curl back up in his chair and throw his wing on top of himself. He was still so exhausted, and listening to more of her woes would likely only lead to further heartache and tears. He’d probably cried enough at this point he’d fully distort if his emotional state got bad enough. Was that what Debug was doing? Probably not, but knowing his luck...

“Giving a lecture to the Shi, apparently,” definitely Roland’s voice, who sighed before continuing, “Though admittedly Gebura opened a pack for us before I even got started. Cut myself off after three, though I’m pretty sure Valentin and Yujin are going to be feeling it in a few hours. Dunno if Tenma’s a lightweight, though. Can’t say I blame them given their current situation...”

He turned his attention from the television to Debug, giving them the best he could between a glare and a questioning look. She shrugged, sipping at her coffee cup again, “You wanted more information about Angela, right? Look.”

The doppelganger nodded back towards the window back into the Library. It was pitch black, but the sound quality was still as crystal clear as ever, “...you tell them, anyway?”

“Pretty much everything without getting to the nitty gritty and overload them with information. Yujin said you directed them to Gebura and I if they had questions,” a brief pause, “Gebura seemed uncomfortable after Tenma asked about the Red Mist, so I covered for her and did the majority of it. Omitted a few things, admittedly. They only know you lived a million years as a secretary trapped in some T-Corp time loop your creator set up. That when you have a strong emotional surge you resonate with the Library. Couldn’t really deflect that since they overheard us on the stairs. Dunno how much they got, so I only answered as vague as I could. Beyond that they only know the rough gist of what the other patrons told me about Lobotomy Corp. and what happened with their lives prior. Little bit of background on what Offices and Syndicates we’ve had receptions for and who to expect. Yujin and I’s information networks don’t perfectly overlap, but aside from a few names she didn’t seem to take note of anything major.”

Philip practically fell out of his chair as he tried to stand up again, Debug catching his arm and helping him not face-plant onto the stone. Roland just continued on, oblivious to their plight, “Figured all that time you spent underground wasn’t my story to tell, just like my wife and I’s isn’t anyone else’s. Should I have? You seemed pretty keen to lay all of your cards on the table to get them to join us.”

“...No. I’m trying to forget that unending play as much as possible,” the Director confirmed. Her next words seemed blurted out, sudden and unthinking. An all too familiar occurrence with himself, “I appreciate you not betraying my trust like that. I realize many of the things you’ve seen from me haven’t been... pleasant. I shouldn’t have let what you or Gebura said get to me as much as it did.”

“Hey, like I said, not my story to tell,” another pause, and Roland’s voice turned sheepish, “Though uh, yeah, I realized pretty quickly I should’ve kept my mouth shut about Philip. Didn’t expect Gebura to be that blunt about it, though I suppose I should’ve seen it coming given the meeting you had with the patrons that worked in Briah.” 

Roland seemed to notice something. His tone was both curious and cautious as he spoke, “You okay? Not trying to walk on eggshells with you or anything, but uh...”

“Roland... would you consider us friends?” Angela asked a moment later, pausing briefly before she seemed to force the words out, “I’ll admit I’m not knowledgeable on the subject, and I’ve forced you into working for me for your own survival...”

“Friends, huh...” the black-haired fixer’s reply was almost immediate, “I mean originally, yeah, I kinda got stuck here. I still need to help you find your one book if I’m gonna leave the Library. Though as we’ve worked together, we’ve gotten to know each other better. You’ve told me about some personal things even before those times with Malkuth and Yesod. I’ve told you a bit about my life. Trading quips, talking about the City. I mean, you actually cracked a joke at my expense when we were talking during the Shi’s unbooking. If you consider us friends, I’d say that's pretty accurate.”

Lines even darker obscured part of the dark view, before shifting and then letting a burst of familiar color return. The colors of the floor Angela had been on before. A brief glimpse of the Director’s face, before Roland’s confused face was revealed some distance away. Philip swore Angela stuttered as she spoke, “I... I decided to keep Philip’s book on my person. I’ve noticed a small warmth and lightness to it at times. The instability of it probably disturbed my coat.”

“Oh. Hey, it’s fine,” Roland glanced down at Philip’s book, then presumably up to Angela. His tone was gentle, caring, like that of a mentor or a parent, “I can understand why. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I...” the normally calm Director’s voice was reduced to a low whisper again, though this time in front of another, “You... You don’t think I’m childish for having to rely on him?”

“Childish? Oh, Angela...” a tone that wasn’t quite pity, and was far from mocking came with Roland's words. The view shifted again as he set Philip’s book down, giving a view into the ceiling that seemed to stretch into darkness.

She... relied on him? They’d barely even spoken. Yet faintly Philip could hear the AI sobbing, Roland attempting to sooth her. A million years underground at L Corp. in a T-Corp time loop? Other... patron librarians. Colleagues that Angela probably meant when she had been trying to talk to Philip prior. Ones who didn’t even remember her between time loops. It was like having a rough idea of a puzzle with half the pieces still needing to be filled in. Trapped, hopeless, alone. Philip swallowed, doing his best to keep his breathing even as he did so. No wonder she saw similarities and felt guilty. If she practically had even the last two days of his life in her hand...

He clamped down on the feeling. He had only a rough idea. Admittedly a rough enough idea he was only beginning to understand, but so much more information than they had had going into the Library. While maybe not sympathetic, he at least understood _why_ some of the things that had happened with both Dawn and Wedge Office had gone like they did. Somehow they needed something from the people in the City to escape the Library...

Philip let out a soundless sigh, turning to glance at Debug. He needed to get out of his book. Figure out the rest of what was going on, rescue his Master and Seonbae, and...

What would he do then? Leave? Stay in the same cage the Library was for them, if only to keep himself from hurting his mentor and senior? Report the incident to the Hana association and hopefully get both Yesterday’s Promise and Oswald taken down?

He needed a better plan, and for now, Philip had none, and no way of carrying it out if he did. All he could do was wait... and perhaps hope that Angela kept his book on her person longer. Even if it hurt, he needed to know more. Either for himself, or for when he left...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we will return to the rest of the Library next chapter...


	7. Chapter 6: Yujin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now back to the Library at large.
> 
> Edit: Rewritten due to the latter half of the original chapter feeling too forced. Next chapter will be worked on now.

The clash of metal on metal had periodically rang through the Floor of Language throughout the last few days as Gebura fought, evaluated, and critiqued the three ex-Shi fixers. Though Angela had said they would have time to recover, Yujin had practically thrown herself into the practice matches as soon as she could move without excessive pain. Tenma had joined the following few hours later, and Valentin soon after her. The former Red Mist hadn’t pulled any punches, and on at least two occasions had hit them so badly that she knocked all three back into their books, later delivering them to Roland to have Angela reconstruct them within the next few hours.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise then when Yujin watched Valentin explode into a mass of golden pages, his book landing on the reception area floor with a heavy thud. The former Director of Section 2 hid a sympathetic wince behind her mask of indifference. Even after witnessing it a few times and experiencing it again herself, it always left a metaphorical wound across her heart. Having been the last of Section 2 to fall to the Library when they had originally arrived, having to witness all of them burst into that same whirlwind of gold...

“Tenma, Yujin,” her eyes, closed as she fought down the memories, opened at Gebura’s call. The brief rush of emotions were held tightly and forced down, let out slowly with her next breath, the rage of red subsiding. The short-haired woman retrieved Valentin’s book carefully, tucking it under one arm. Despite no time having passed for the three prior, they had become fully aware that they were conscious and cognitive within their books in the following rebookings. Yujin always handled both with a level of care and closeness that was one of the few moments of comfort she felt she could give. Despite her attempts to do so, Yujin still felt she couldn’t let down her metaphorical mask easily. The fact that it was becoming a problem even in private around Tenma certainly didn’t help.

Tenma herself was soaked in sweat at this point, the unnatural and ever-present heat of the Floor of Language combined with the all-too-real combat training leaving her huffing and chugging water when the patron handed a bottle to her. Gebura looked between the two for a moment before sighing, “I’m calling it on these little sparring matches for now. I’ll go talk to Angela and tell her you three are ready for the more general receptions the Library receives.”

“I can keep going,” Tenma said briefly before going back to chugging water.

The red-haired woman scoffed, fishing a cigarette out of her coat and lighting it. She took a quick puff before continuing, “I don’t doubt it, but this is more a personal reason. I wasn’t going to waste time ‘training’ you or whatever Angela thinks you needed originally. Aside from one or two minor ways you I need to change up coordinating with you compared to the assistants I had before, there’s little need for it. Being a bit more direct about tactics is all I’ve needed to suggest; you’re not Grade 7 Fixers still learning how to swing a weapon and not bleed out after finishing a job.”

“Even if these fights have been ‘to the death’ so to speak, it’s obviously not much of a substitute for actual receptions of... Guests. I only requested we start sooner to keep our skills sharp and not degrade in quality,” Yujin’s thumb shifted her blade up and down slightly within its sheath, a bad habit she normally kept under control. The more lax nature of the Library had let all three of them loosen up a bit more, but still she slid the blood red blade home before she spoke again, “Yet you’ve been going along with it anyway.”

“I wanted to see your skills for myself. I watched your reception against Malkuth, but seeing what you can do when I fight the three of you provides much more context and information,” a sigh escaped Gebura’s lips, the accompanying cloud of smoke swirling around her, “That, and sparring always helps me think...”

“So I take it, that's why you always leave when you hear Angela or Roland walking down to us?,” Tenma asked as the three women started heading back through the bridges and catwalks back to the living space they now shared. She returned to finishing off the last of the water a moment later, handing it back to Gebura. With a flick of the wrist the Patron of Language turned the bottle back into light, letting it disperse behind them.

“The first few times were coincidence,” the red haired patron noted, rolling her eyes, “Not my fault or my problem if Angela decides she wants to talk about something when I’m downstairs helping Tiphereth or catching up on my own education with Yesod.”

Yujin made a humming noise in the back of her throat, side-eyeing Tenma as the smaller fixer slid out of her coat and threw it over one shoulder, the plain black underclothes equally as soaked. Perhaps the former Director of Section 2 needed to talk about uniform changes. Something more breathable for the hotter environment the Floor of Language was. Changes in tactics meant having to focus on endurance over quick and efficient kills, at least from what few receptions she had been able to observe on the other floors.

“Not trying to overstep or rile you up, Patron,” Tenma noted, the quarters section of the floor coming into view, “But I think you two should talk. We’re all stuck here together until the job’s done and Angela reaches her goal. Might as well make it comfortable instead of hell...”

Gebura grunted, though Yujin gave a nod of agreement with her girlfriend. The awkwardness and mixture of emotions was obvious on Gebura’s face every time it was clear her mind was on the prior argument. The red haired woman had waited until they’d sobered up after Roland’s lecture before grilling the three about what they heard. Which was, admittedly, pretty much everything after Angela started yelling. While it wasn’t the place of the ex-Shi fixers to prod about it, Yujin had to admit giving a certain amount of concern and respect for their new boss of sorts. If anything, it was a bit of a relief to not carry the mantle of leadership herself.

“Mph. I intend to. You two hit the shower. I’ll take Valentin up and talk with Angela,” the former director nodded, gently passing the Patron Valentin’s book. Gebura took it carefully, dispelling the massive weapon of flesh and metal in her main hand to tuck it into her jacket. Mimicry, the E.G.O. Kali wielded when she became a Color. The more Yujin sparred against the red haired woman, the more she realized that it was the massive greatsword that had helped her become the Red Mist. A weapon she wielded so easily it was like an extension of her body, more so than Yujin was with her own katana. Why it was called Mimicry was still unknown to her. All Gebura would say was that she would tell them about it once she found something she was concerned Angela had hidden before Gebura had even woken up in the Library.

“Assuming things don’t go poorly, could you let Angela know I wish to speak with her afterwards? I’ve some ideas and requests about alternative attire that won’t leave the three of us boiling in our own outfits,” at Gebura’s nod, Yujin began undoing her own jacket as they returned to their quarters. The Patron of Language split off, out onto the stairway between floors and starting the four floor climb to Keter.

Tenma sighed, already starting to strip once Yujin closed the door behind them, “Hope that doesn’t end badly...”

“Mmm...,” Yujin tossed her jacket onto her bed, starting to slide out of her own sweat-stained clothing, “While it ultimately concerns us as well as the Director and Patron, it’s not our place. Besides, we’ll need to recover ourselves if we’ll be moving to general invitations...”

“Suppose so...” Tenma fast-walked into the bathroom, the sound of running water coming soon after, calling back over the noise, “Cuddle and watch movies after we’re dry?”

Yujin joined her girlfriend soon after, glancing at her own visage in the mirror, “Sounds lovely...”

Unlike herself, Tenma had few marks on her, the agility and speed of the smaller fixer allowing her to weave under and around attacks. The one behind her left ear, the one one that was on the right side of her chin that was a remnant from the loss of her eye that Angela had been unable to repair; the only other scars on her body was the sizable slice across her stomach from years ago before they had joined the Shi. Yujin remembered worrying herself sick afterwards for the smaller woman. They hadn’t even started dating then. Then there was Yujin herself, a mess of scar tissue from head to toe. Lacerations. Burns. The chemical damage scars from the Oblivion Ingots case they had handled before coming to the Library. Many of them were faded, but within the last two weeks or so a myriad of red, mostly-healed marks had joined them. While they had been scarred over after being released from her book, Yujin couldn’t help but stare at each. Most had been from trying, and in a few cases failing, to take hits for members of Section 2. The long X-shaped scars across her face throbbed dully, the nerve and muscle damage never fully healing properly and always reminding her that they existed.

The former director let out a breath. Press them down. She had done all she could and had been on the brink of collapse several times, Section 2 ran ragged alongside her. No matter how much she choked on the guilt, the more rational part of her mind knew she had done all she could. To dwell on it would only dull her focus. She couldn’t hold it all down and bottle it up forever, but meditation and the much more frequent and recent moments of intimacy with Tenma had helped to let the pressure off of her emotions slowly.

Tenma’s remaining eye met Yujin’s own in the mirror, a worried expression knitting her brow. The olive green met her own black, an unspoken question, before Yujin sighed, turning away and lightly patting her girlfriend’s hair, then helping her undo the small bun she kept it in. Her voice was soft, though for a moment she couldn’t keep the fragility out of it, “I’m fine, dear...”

Not pushing the issue, Tenma tested the water before stepping in, gently pulling her girlfriend in afterwards. The rush of heat and massaging stream from actually good water pressure and heat soothed the muscles along Yujin’s skin, another shaking sigh leaving her body, though this one of relief. Tenma had a point, as she always did; Just because they were stuck in the Library didn’t mean they couldn’t be comfortable...

* * *

Gebura was not a coward. She wasn’t. Even if she had regained most of her memories and calmed down, she still detested cowardice and tried to work through her issues instead of avoiding them. Bad memories being brought up didn’t make her weak. So why, Wings _fucking damnit_ , why was she avoiding Angela? She’d gone through more cigarettes in the last few days than she had since she woke up in the Library, _and_ during round two with Binah when the Sephirot were trying to stop Angela. The remnants of the Red Mist had become more of a chain smoker than Kali had ever been.

Gebura pressed her head against the wall next to the entrance to Chesed’s quarters, trying to calm down. Dissociating even further from her old life and name wouldn’t help. Kali was still a part of who she was, just with a hell of a lot more scarring, memories, and a few physical changes here and there compared to the young woman of the Backstreets. At least Angela hadn’t messed with much of _that_ when giving her a body again...

Focus. Breathe. She’d crossed a line, and given the fact that she already knew Angela was carrying guilt for her actions and plenty of pain buried under that coarse personality of hers, Gebura should’ve known better than to push that line of conversation further. She also needed to unbook Valentin and send the man back down to her floor. Just apologize briefly and sincerely, get Valentin unbooked, and then get some fresh air and calm the hell down. Life would go on and she wouldn’t have this stupid situation nagging at her in the back of her head- “Gebura?”

Oh fuck. Fuck her running. Wings fucking damnit. Fuck. Of course she picked _now_ of all times to wrestle with her feelings in the open. Gebura tilted her head over to look at Angela and Roland, then straightened up and let out a sigh, already trying to fish a cigarette out of her coat, “Well. Guess I don’t have to climb the rest of the way up...”

“Admittedly I was hoping to catch you after your training sessions with the Shi and check up on the four of you,” Angela admitted, averting her own gaze briefly, before looking back and then focusing on Valentin’s book, “Though I take it something occurred?”

“Tch. The Shi are fine,” Gebura pulled out a cigarette and quickly lit it, taking a quick puff to take the edge off, “Most of it was learning how to coordinate together and push them to more of a Liu Association mindset. All out war and endurance than quick and fast attacks from the shadows. At this point if you want anything better out of them, you should put them through a few general invitations...”

“I see...,” Angela nodded. Not quite stiff, but not as lax as she had been when she arrived at the Floor of Arts a couple of days ago, “If you think they’re ready, I’ll change the scheduling around and put you back into the rotation.”

“Yeah. Here,” Gebura offered Valentin’s book, which Angela took gingerly, “Besides that, Yujin wanted to talk to you after she and Tenma got out of the shower. Something about new clothes. Probably something more breathable for receptions than the leather their jackets are made from...”

Another nod. Gebura sighed out another thick cloud of smoke, blowing away from the two and glancing at Roland. The monochrome Grade 9 screw-up was thankfully keeping his mouth shut, looking a bit worriedly at Angela. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Gebura raised an eyebrow, grasping for something to prolong the inevitable, “You two are together now...?”

Roland choked, Angela covering her mouth, looking as close to the AI could come to looking sick. Roland recovered first, “Gebura-”

“You’re mistaken. Again,” Angela answered harshly, her tone that of irritation. Eyes closed, brow knit, voice cold; classic Angela, “Roland’s been the first person I’ve gotten to interact and get along with since the first loop. He’s become my mentor regarding almost everything about the City. It’s not a... _romantic_ relationship. He’s been better to me than Ayin ever was. Make of that what you will...”

“...Well I won’t deny that,” Gebura sighed out a huff of smoke. Angela’s expression morphed from disgust at the idea of romance with Roland, to perplexed at the red haired woman’s statement. The Patron of Language snorted, “We all joined _Carmen_ , Angela, not Ayin. He just took over after she died in order to finish what Carmen started. I don't have nearly the level of resentment for him you do, but I'm not going to defend him. Not like that. And outside of Hokma, I'm pretty sure any respect for him among the Sephirot is now grudgingly at best.”  
  
“If it weren’t for the Light being at stake, I’d probably have joined you if Binah hadn’t,” another cloud of smoke flowed past her lips, dissipating out over the Library, “But that’s a very big if. As it stands, while you’ve made us have to work to gather the light _again_ , I’m starting to get your motivations from those last two... resonations. I’m not going to swing Mimicry in your direction after this is all over, I’ll tell you that much.”

“How generous of you,” the blue-haired director responded, still as cold as before. Angela haphazardly tossed Valentin’s book into the air and snapped her fingers, catching him by the collar of his jacket before he fell and busted his nose. The taller man coughed a bit, but quickly kept his mouth shut and stepped away with a nod of thanks to Angela. The AI ignored him, still glaring coldly at Gebura, “If you’re done? I’ll be talking with your new assistant about their reception attire.”

Gebura closed her eyes, letting the cigarette hang in her mouth. This wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped, but at least Angela was more her usual cold anger than raging fury. What a low bar the patron had set for herself. Should she just back off and let Angela cool off again? To gamble and risk a resonation, or back down and wait for a better opportunity?

No. She’d had enough of this. Even if the specifics were different, what right did Kali have to criticize Angela for struggling through her entire life, when Gebura had struggled through two of her own? No way in hell was she going to let herself get away with that fuckup. The Red Mist spun on her heel and looked at Angela’s retreating back, calling out, “Angela.”

With an annoyed sigh, the blue-haired AI stopped and turned just enough to give Gebura the barest bit of her attention. Better than nothing, “...Having empathy for others isn’t a flaw. And learning from outside of the Sephirot is something I should’ve commended, not insulted. I of all people should’ve known better.”

“...” Angela turned back around, the last glimpse of her face turning from exasperation to neutral calm, before her visage slipped from view and the blue haired AI continued on her way.

* * *

“...” Angela forced herself to remain outwardly calm, refusing to give Gebura even a hint of an idea that her words had any effect. Initially the blue-haired woman had wanted to try to clear the air, but that sickening insinuation and the idea that Gebura would’ve put her petty rivalry with Binah above helping Angela herself left the AI annoyed. Angry, even. She wasn’t expecting any of the Sephirot to side with her once they had the Light back in its entirety. Even Binah was unpredictable enough that their temporary alliance made Angela weary now. The initial swell of emotions at not being alone and not having to terminate every last one of them if she had to had faded now that she-

“Angela,” she stopped as Roland called her name, glancing up to the taller man. His expression was that of worry, forehead creased with concern, “You okay? I can talk with Yujin if you want...”

“...I’ll be fine,” she kept her voice low and calm, but the lie felt like acid on her tongue. Not here. She couldn’t break down here. Or show emotion. Or weakness. Her own pride and the proximity to the former Shi fixers wouldn’t allow it. Yet lying to Roland felt even worse after these last few days, “...I have concerns regarding some of the patron librarians.”  
  
Roland nodded, a small frown on his lips. He glanced behind them, then leaned on the railing to attempt to check if the Shi were near the doorway to the Floor of Language’s living quarters. Seemingly satisfied, he kept his own voice low, “Guessing that wasn’t exactly to plan?”

“Not just Gebura,” Angela closed her eyes, sighing softly, “One of the former Sephirot of Atziluth. She was able to recall the endless loops of the play as well, though she was an unknown to me for much of my time spent within Lobotomy Corporation. She was also the only one that joined me during the conflict for the Light.”

“Binah, right?” Roland guessed, continuing at Angela’s nod, “The Asiyah patrons mentioned her briefly. She was able to go toe to toe with Gebura, and defended you for half of White Nights Dark Days. Guessing that your other ally’s got a catch if you’re worried about her...”

Another nod, Angela easily going back to the memories in her data storage, “Our relationship wasn’t exactly a long-running one. Binah worked in the Extraction Department of Lobotomy Corporation. The play rarely got that far, and when it did, so many more important things were going on and taking my attention. We rarely spoke, but the discussions we had over tea were... a welcome respite...”

“Sounds like quite the woman,” Roland noted, “Strong, cordial. I can see why you’d enjoy her company.”

“I did... but walking into Extraction was like walking into the proverbial lion’s den. Binah’s original incarnation was...” Angela bit her lip. It wasn’t her story to tell. Not entirely. Still, she would warn Roland for his own sake and her peace of mind, “An enemy of the others, to put it mildly. She was ruthless, sadistic, and cruel. From what I understand, the only one she came close to respecting was Gebura, and only as a warrior. She isn’t quite as psychotic as the Blue Reverberation, but the fact that she stood by me...”  
  
“Yeah, I think I get it,” Roland sighed as Angela’s eyes opened, looking up to him as he leaned on the railing, “I’ve worked with a few fixers with screws loose from time to time. You always have to be wary that they won’t decide to skewer you just for kicks. Given Binah could give Kali a run for her money, it’s understandable to worry. Still, since you’re the one in control here, you can just book her again if she decides to turn on you, right?”

“If my life was threatened, yes,” Angela glanced away, “However if...”

The blue-haired director bit her lip, “Nevermind. It’s not my story to tell. Not fully.”

“Gotcha... I take it you need a minute?” Roland’s eyebrow raised slightly, but the concern he wore prior was back. That caring, worried face of his bringing some level of comfort and safety.

Angela shook her head softly, “No. While the memories aren’t pleasant, talking about it was... necessary, I believe. Thank you, Roland.”  
  
“Hey, s’what friends are for,” the monochrome-clad man noted, sticking his hands in his pockets and following after as Angela descended the last few steps. He paused a moment, still following, before adding, “Or... whatever we are to each other. Though I admit I agree about the idea of a romantic relationship being off the table for us. I’ve got my own grief to work through, and... well, honestly no offense Angela, but the few weeks I’ve been around you I’m guessing you’re not big on any kind of romance?”

“Hm? Oh, no. Originally, I suppose, but that was before the Library. I simply don’t like the idea of a romantic relationship with men. For obvious reasons,” Angela noted as they stepped onto the intersection landing connected to Gebura’s floor. The AI director let out a small sigh, already feeling a bit calmer. Things weren’t pleasant by any means, but better. Angela walked in, hearing the faint sound of a television as her eyes wandered the living space. Yujin and Tenma were snuggled together on the couch, a few sheets taken from their beds wrapped around the two.

Tenma was cuddled into Yujin’s side, her single remaining eye half-open and watching whatever they had playing on the recently-made television. Yujin herself was only vaguely watching, eyes flicking to Tenma occasionally and giving her significant other a gentle head rub or kiss upon the forehead. While Angela didn’t intend to listen, her aural sensors could pick up the soft, ‘I love you’ that passed between the taller woman’s lips. For a brief moment something vaguely akin to jealousy rose in Angela’s chest, but she stomped it down immediately. She had more important things to focus on, and what relationship her former Guests had wasn’t her concern. Yujin looked up at Angela’s approach, pausing the television and moving to stand until Angela waved her action away. Tenma looked to Angela as well, then her gaze flicked past her as Roland followed. The two scarred women gave slight bows of the head, “Director.”

“Yujin. Tenma,” Angela gave a polite nod in return, “Gebura informed me that you desire a change in attire for receptions. As the Floor of Language will be returning to general invitation receptions soon, I thought it prudent to see to your request immediately.”

“Thank you,” Yujin glanced away a moment, then continued, “Are there any limits to what you can produce for us? I’m not expecting something equivalent to a Claw’s suit, but if we’re under equipment restrictions for receptions...”

“I can’t replicate Nuovo Fabric perfectly, if that’s what you are asking,” Angela replied, before snapping her fingers and weaving the light around them into a copy of Yujin’s own outfit to give an example. She dispersed it a moment after catching it out of the air, then continued, “But anything similar enough to the attire of the Librarians or your own outfits is easily replicated in terms of protective qualities.”  
  
“What about something that isn’t based on a Librarian’s designs or our own?” Tenma asked, rubbing the drowsiness from her eye, “If that would be possible, I’d prefer something much more breathable... I’ve nearly gotten heat exhaustion just from training. Our current outfits are highly impractical for the Floor of Language.”  
  
“Breathable but protective fabrics I can replicate. If you desire something more obfuscating should you not wish for information of your current situation to be known, I can provide outfits with more skin coverage as well. No promises on being able to hide your identities entirely,” Angela stepped a bit further in as she explained, “If your request is for custom attire, frankly you should talk with Chesed about designing outfits and patterns to deliver to me. The more precise the better. He and Tiphereth have asked about such things before.”

“Y’know I was wondering about that...” Roland idly mused from the doorway.  
  
Angela paid it no mind, “Currently Yesod is next in the rotation for general receptions, so you’ve a few days. If something diverts my attention elsewhere, just leave the designs with Roland.”  
  
“That would be... preferable. As we’re no longer tied to the Shi Association while we’re under your employment, the more obvious designs and symbols associated with the Shi feel... unnecessary...” Yujin noted, drumming the fingers of her free hand against the couch arm, “I’ll speak with Chesed and the four of us will draft up designs tomorrow. Is that sufficient time?”

The blue-haired woman nodded, turning to leave so she could teleport both herself and Roland back up to Keter. As she did, Yujin spoke up, “Before you leave, Director. When can we expect Valentin’s return?”

“Whenever he and Gebura walk down from Chesed’s floor.” she answered simply, before snapping her fingers and reappearing back up at Keter. Immediately after the sound of Roland smoothing out his suit signalled the man’s arrival with her. Angela sighed, making her way over to the usual couch she occupied while in General Works proper, “I will admit that I could have handled the conversation with Gebura better.”

“Probably,” Roland agreed, joining her a moment after and rubbing the back of his neck, “but at the same time you both seemed to be trying. I’d say that’s an improvement.”

“If she hadn’t made such an asinine assumption...” Angela muttered, before shaking her head, “Forget it. That’s that and this is this. We’ve both more important things to do.”  
  
“Working on the Dawn Office?” Roland questioned, receiving his answer as Angela reached into her coat and pulled Philip’s slightly warm book out. Angela merely nodded, flipping back to a page she had left a slip of paper sticking out of. Weaving the Light through his book was a time consuming process even compared to other Guests. Doubly so since she was attempting to restore his physical and mental state to that of before Pluto had aided in turning the young man into a Distortion. Angela could quickly hear Roland’s fading footsteps, the dark-haired man calling back, “Gotcha. Give me a yell if you need me, Ange.”

Angela huffed at the nickname, going over her in head for probably the dozenth time if she should’ve let Roland call her that even in the privacy of Keter. The parallel of reinforcing amity between them through referring to each other through a more intimate term, with Roland now being the one doing so as opposed to herself, wasn’t lost on the AI. She set the internal debate aside once again. Though she wouldn’t admit it, it had grown on her a bit. The memory of her creation coming back with the association to names turned the smile into an annoyed scowl. Angela merely scoffed, mumbling to herself, “Still a better name than Angelos...”


	8. Chapter 7: Valentin Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liiiiiiive! Apologies for the... month long wait between last update and this chapter. I swear this is still ongoing. I've got a full-time job now, however, so progress is slow... but it is occurring. Without further ado...

Returning to his normal state from being a book always left Valentin disoriented. The fact that he barely had a moment to understand what was happening before he felt gravity take hold and send him falling to the floor didn’t help. Thankfully Angela was merely irritated with Gebura, not himself, and he could only give a small nod of thanks as she caught him by the collar and set him back on the ground gently. The blue-haired Director ignored him, still focused on Gebura. Valentin read the situation easily enough to step away as the two women finished their argument, backing through the doorway onto whatever floor he had been restored on. The ex-Shi fixer had seen enough arguments in the Shi Association to know when to back off and not get involved. Doubly so for the rare moments Yujin and Tenma had an argument.

It was almost a relief when the faint smell of coffee entered Valentin’s nose as Angela went strutting down the stairs. The dark-haired man could only give a polite nod to Roland before the older fixer went after their Director, though Valentin himself remained where he was. When Gebura called out to the blue-haired woman, he made the decision to avoid the situation entirely, ducking further into Social Sciences to follow the smell of coffee.

Social Sciences was probably the only other floor Valentin had gone to frequently enough to know the place. The ex-Shi fixers weren’t limited on where they could go by any means, but Valentin had kept mostly to Language and Social Sciences to get familiar with their new workplace and settle in properly. Even his brief moments in Keter were only long enough to thank Angela for restoring his body, always retreating to Language quickly to leave the Director to her business. As he made his way to the central room of the living quarters of the floor, Valentin made his presence known, “Patron Chesed. Are you here by chance?”  
  
“Valentin?~” the blue-haired man’s usual lilt greeted his ears before he emerged into the central room. Chesed looked up from his coffee grinding, giving a small smile, “Nice to see you again.Though I thought you and the girls had practice?”

“Things were cut short. Though the Director and Patron got into a bit of an argument...” Valentin could only rub the back of his head, though he quickly corrected himself, “Director Angela, I mean. Don’t suppose you’d be willing to brew another cup?”   
  


“Make it two,” Valentin turned, then stepped aside to allow Gebura through as she walked down the hallway. The Patron of Language all but collapsed onto one of the barstools across from Chesed, rubbing at her forehead, “What a mess...”

“I don’t suppose pointing out that the Library didn’t start shaking will help?~” Chesed asked as Valentin slid into the seat next to his new boss. Gebura gave a grunt, though the blue-haired man continued, “Alright, alright. I’ll whip up your usuals then. Sounds like you two have had a rough morning.~”

“I still don’t understand how you all can accurately guess the time here,” Valentin noted aloud, earning a shrug from both Patrons. The flow of time was so off here it was difficult to tell what time of day it was, let alone what minute or even hour.

“You get used to it,” Gebura answered, accepting an offered cup of coffee from Chesed before taking a long gulp. The former Color gave a nod of thanks before turning her attention back to Valentin, “Though admittedly it’s a bit easier for us since we woke up here from the start.”

“At least you won’t be the only ones after a while, right? Angela’s probably working on the next Guests to recruit already,” the Patron of Social Sciences noted as he passed the ex-Shi fixer his own cup, “We discussed quite a number that would probably join us, though I think only one of them is an associate Office of the Shi?~”

“Full-Stop Office?” at Chesed’s nod, Valentin shrugged, “I suppose so, though we’ll probably still need to prove ourselves. We should be working in general receptions next. Assuming that’s still a possibility, Patron?”

Gebura grunted, “Yeah, that’s still on. Angela was heading down to our floor to talk with Yujin and Tenma about some new outfits. Doubt that Full-Stop Office will be the next group of fixers she pulls out, though.”

“Oh?~ Sounds like you have some insider information, Kali,” Chesed took a step back as Gebura’s hand shot out to grab at him. Valentin again kept his mouth shut, sipping at his own coffee and staying out of it. Gebura’s temper around Chesed had been explosive enough that the ex-Shi fixers had learned to either let them work it out themselves, or get Tiphereth.

The red-haired woman practically growled, which instantly had Chesed’s smile dropping from his lips as she spoke, “Unless you want to get on Angela’s shit list too, stay out of it  _ Daniel _ .”

“That bad?” Chesed’s features softened at Gebura’s nod, the red-haired woman’s eyes refusing to meet his own as she sipped at her coffee. The blue-haired man sighed, “My apologies then, Gebura. You’re free to stay here for a while if you need to. Yourself as well, Valentin. Though if the three of you will be requesting new attire, I can probably assist with the designs. Assuming you don’t have anything specifically in mind?”

“Thank you, Patron Chesed,” Valentin sipped at his coffee further, glad for the caffeine, “Admittedly, though, I don’t. The Shi’s standard attire is more of a faux leather material. It’s durable, padded and designed to be silent, but it’s also unable to breathe. We’re cooking inside of our outfits on the Floor of Language. The Dire-... Yujin was probably just going to request a change of material... though I wouldn’t mind something a bit more concealing.”

“Don’t want any old colleagues that might show up recognizing you?~” Valentin could only nod at the Patron of Social Sciences’ question, “It’s understandable. I have a bit of fashion knowledge from my first life in a Nest. You’d be surprised how many of the higher-ups in Wings will devote funds to their appearance. Some of them are like birds trying to have the brightest colors and designs to attract a partner, I swear. I doubt the general trends haven’t changed much in ten years, though the specifics have probably gone through a generation or two. Any specific ideas?”

“Some form of hooded coat would be preferable. More of a Backstreets fixer look, perhaps,” Valentin tapped his pointer finger against his mug, “Something that you would see in any Office, instead of an Association. Though I’m sure Yujin would provide better details than myself. I’ve never been one for fashion. If it’s durable and protective, it’s usable. My apologies if that’s a bit too... general.”

Chesed smiled, finally pouring his own cup of coffee, “No worries.~ I’ll swing by Language later with some designs you can look through.”

For a brief while after, Valentin simply sat and listened as Chesed and Gebura spoke. The two seemed to catch up like a pair of old friends, talking about the more recent business of their respective floors, with Chesed being interested in how Gebura and the Shi had been getting along. Valentin for the most part answered sparingly and let Gebura lead the flow of conversation. He had always been one for keeping to himself, though he was by no means a loner. Working alongside both Yujin and Tenma had simply led to being present more in the background than actively leading a conversation, with the sole exception being the assignments and work of Section 2.

It was almost refreshing, both working and just chatting alongside the two Patrons. Despite being an Urban Nightmare, the Library’s denizens were surprisingly human and amicable. Even the blue-haired Director that ran the place was lax about life outside of receptions, to a degree. Tenma had a point; life here didn’t have to be hellish, even if they were stuck within the Library until Angela’s goal was met. Valentin hid a smile behind his cup of coffee as Chesed began to tell the story of how he and Gebura first met, with the then Grade 2 fixer accidentally kidnapping him thinking he was a con-artist that had scammed a friend of hers out of some money.

A half hour or so later, both Gebura and Valentin himself said their goodbyes and began the descent back to the Floor of Language. The red-haired Woman lit a cigarette as they stepped out onto the landing, taking a gentle puff. The comfortable silence between the two remained during their seamless transition to the Floor of Language from Social Sciences, the light shifting to the bright red and warm colors to fit Gebura's own image. At about the last quarter of the stairwell, however, the silence was broken by the sound of pounding feet coming up towards them. Assuming the worst case scenario, Valentin pulled his katana from its sheath, only to quickly return it upon realizing who was coming up the stairs towards them.

Yujin and Tenma stopped their accent when they saw the two waiting, both still clad in the pajamas they’d probably switched into after showering. Yujin sighed, looking more relieved than exasperated, “Welcome back...”

“What did the Director say to have you two so worried?” Valentin asked, raising his visible eyebrow. Both women glanced at each other for a moment, though Tenma just shrugged, stepping closer to nuzzle against her girlfriend.  
  
Yujin smiled, giving her a soft pat on the head, before answering his question, “Nothing alarming, merely wondering if something was keeping the two of you indisposed...”

Gebura grunted, walking past the two. Rather than return to their quarters, however, she kept walking. Valentin frowned, turning to her as she took the first step down, “Patron?”

Gebura paused, letting out a tired sigh, grey smoke billowing out with it, “...I need some air. Go ahead and relax for the rest of the day. You know where to find me if something happens...”

Valentin could only nod, watching the Red Mist descend the stairs with a lazy wave to them, not looking back. A moment later Malkuth passed by, giving the three ex-Shi fixers a polite nod before continuing upwards.

* * *

Malkuth took a moment to catch her breath, eyes focused on the stairs ahead and mind working on each step of her plan. Convincing Angela of just about anything at this point was difficult, and she needed to prevent the former secretary from writing it off entirely. Still, best to do so now, while she still had time to put it in motion. The next red invitation could drop in a few days...

The Patron of History continued up, past Chesed’s floor, the locked doors to Binah and Hokma’s respective floors, before arriving at the landing just before Keter. She always wondered why Angela chose Keter, given that due to its location it would have been A’s floor. Or perhaps she was simply using it as a memorial to X? Malkuth would likely never know.

X. Malkuth hadn’t thought about Lobotomy Corp.’s final manager for days if not weeks. Too much work to do, even with the help of her assistants. He had all but disappeared after the Seed of Light had finished, and Angela refused to speak on him. Was she grieving? Vindicated? X was still what was left of A, and yet even Malkuth herself knew he was the furthest thing from A. It wasn’t like herself and Elijah, where they were similar enough that it was akin to a past life or set of memories similar enough she might as well have been the same person. Even after Angela had uploaded A’s memories back into his body, X was still... well, X. The kind-hearted manager that actually bothered to care about everyone. Who made sure that Malkuth herself was alright after her memories resurfaced. Who actually felt  _ guilty _ about what he had done as A.

Malkuth would have been lying if she said she didn’t miss him. All of Asiyah did really, but she was the only one that ever asked what had happened. The Patron of History shook her head, before smoothing her hair back into place. She had a plan to enact. And hopefully if she pulled it off, she would have some time to herself to actually think on such things in depth...

“Malkuth?” at the call of her name, she looked up, finding Roland staring down at her with a stack of books in his arms, “Perfect timing. I was actually gonna head down and deliver these. Though uh... you okay? You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

“Just... thinking about what I wanted to do up here,” she walked up the rest of the stairs, taking the stack of books from Roland, “Is Angela around? I wanted to talk with her about the next set of Guests she wanted to recruit.”  
  
A snap sounded out a half-second before Angela greeted her, appearing a few steps away from both Patrons with a pair of books beneath one arm, “Malkuth. I thought I heard your voice. Though I suppose it’s not an unpleasant surprise to see you again.”

“Angela,” Malkuth glanced at the covers of the books beneath the AI’s arm. She could easily see the partially-covered symbol of Dawn Office. Hopefully Angela was finished with them and this would go smoothly, “I came to ask if you’d take a request for the next set of Guests that we attempt to have join us.”

Angela huffed, sliding the two books into her coat, no doubt where she kept the third of the Dawn Office trio, “I’ve already decided on the Eight o’Clock Circus members we received recently. Even then, it will be several days within the Library before I determine if Yujin and her subordinates are useful enough to continue attempting to recruit our former Guests.”

The Patron of History opened her mouth to speak, before Angela held up a hand, eyes closed, “But... I am willing to take a suggestion. Who did you have in mind?”

“Streetlight Office,” Angela’s eyes snapped open at Malkuth’s words, but the Patron of History continued on regardless, “I think we’ll get along well together, and if we convince them, we’ll have a better chance of getting the assistance of the Zwei-”

“Absolutely not,” Angela interrupted, voice terse, “They would only attack us before we had a chance to explain ourselves. Even then, they’re not even a high enough Grade that we should consider recruiting them.”

“Lulu only attacked you due to Mars being turned into a book. And San only got the Zwei Association involved to rescue both of them. If we reunite all three at once, I’m sure they’d be receptive. And I’ll gladly pull double duty on general invitation receptions to ensure they grow strong enough!” Malkuth countered, raising her voice slightly, “And I’ve still got the Pages of our guests from when we were an Urban Plague. My assistants won’t need them if they agree to work with us.”

“And let a rookie Office handle Object D’Art Pages? Use the E.G.O. of Abnormalities?” Angela scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “Not a chance. Even the Shi I’ll be leaving to their own devices to prove themselves…”

“Then let me train them until they’ve shown they’ll be useful. You can regulate the Floor of History’s access to the Abnormalities, right?” the Patron of History asked, “We’ve plenty of lower quality Pages we can train them with until they acclimate to the Library. Mars himself was the first Object D’Art we were able to extract-”

“Why do you care about Fixers you’ve never even met?” Angela snapped, a barely-noticeable waver to her voice, “Yesod handled their reception. You haven’t-”

“Then why don’t you want to give them a chance?! Why do you seem afraid to try?” she swallowed, realizing she had just yelled that rather loudly. She sighed, “I thought you were through with running from your past. That after X, you would’ve realized even the people that hated you can still care and be willing to change...”

“...” Angela closed her eyes, sighing through her nose. For a long moment she didn’t speak, before finally opening them again, “...You’re as bad as Hod with her counselling requests.  _ Fine _ . I’ve finished preparing Dawn Office anyway. But  _ only  _ if the Shi prove that this isn’t just a wasted effort. If that happens, you’ll be the one to convince them. I’m not letting that lovestruck teenager strike me again.”

Malkuth merely nodded, earning a second sigh from Angela. The former secretary then turned to Roland, who had been quiet the entire time as he watched the two argue. For a moment the two stared at each other, some unspoken words passed between them, before Angela turned away, “...I’m going to retrieve their books. Leave Keter before I’m back.”

With another  _ Snap! _ Angela disappeared before either could respond. Roland let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck, “I suppose that went about as well as it could have… who the hell is X anyway?”

“X is…  _ was _ , I guess, the last manager of Lobotomy Corporation before White Nights and Dark Days,” Malkuth explained, setting the stack of books down on a nearby table. She sighed, “And he’s all that was left of Ayin before he disappeared.”

“Ayin… wait, you’re saying he was the one that made Angela?” Roland asked, incredulous. He scoffed, “Why would she give a damn about anything he did?”

“It’s… complicated. I didn’t believe it at first, but X… wasn’t like the rest of us. And he wasn’t anything like Ayin, even when Angela returned his memories to him.” Malkuth attempted to explain, drumming her fingers along the desk. She thought of how best to word it, before deciding on her own experience, “When Elijah… when I died in my first life, I called out for Ayin, asking him to kill me. Everything at the time was pure agony; I just wanted it to stop, and there wasn’t any saving me anyway. He… ignored me and walked away. Left Elijah to die in pain. When X helped me through the trauma from my first life… I don’t think it was because he needed to. It was what he  _ wanted _ to do. When I looked at him after that… I didn’t see or experience even a trace of Ayin’s cold indifference in him. Just a tired man who was happy I was alright.”

“Huh… sounds like he did a complete one-eighty compared to the asshole that made your lives a living hell,” Roland commented after she finished. He frowned slightly, “Still, doesn’t explain why Angela would care about him. She obviously didn’t care enough to stop her revenge either. What happened to him anyway?”

Malkuth shrugged, “I think Angela’s the only one that really knows. I tried asking her once, but… well, that was weeks ago. Maybe a day after I woke up? You can imagine how that went. And like I said… I don’t think X was anything like Ayin, to the point he might not have been Ayin at all in anything but physical body. Honestly, I don’t think Ayin even  _ existed  _ by that point anymore.”

“Damn,” Roland shivered, “That’s disturbing, even compared to all of the things that go on in the City. Complete death of the mind, but not the body? At least you guys survived through all of your lives…”

“Mhm,” Malkuth sighed, picking up the stack of books again. She was tired. Both from arguing with Angela and dredging up the now-bittersweet memories from her second life, “Thanks for the books, Roland. I… think I’m going back to my floor. Angela and I both probably need to cool off after that...”

Roland gave a silent nod, sticking his hands into his pockets as she walked away, back down the stairs. The click of both of their sets of feet soon faded to only Malkuth’s own as she walked down.

“...Malkuth…” she stopped, turning back. She swear she knew that voice. It was faint, but she still heard it from up the stairs. She took a step up, craning her neck to hopefully hear it again, “Malkuth…”

“Malkuth,” the Patron of History whirled around, finding Chesed on the stairs with a cup of coffee in hand, as always. The Patron of Social Sciences continued up the stairs, giving her a concerned look, “Are you alright? You look as tired as I do…”

“I… yeah, I’m fine, Chesed,” Malkuth shook her head slightly, walking past the blue-haired man, “Just tired…”

“You’re welcome to rest on my floor if you need to,” he offered, before sipping from his cup, “Though it seems we both had the same idea of getting our delivery from Roland ourselves.”

“Thanks, but I’ll make it. Tell Angelina and the other assistants hello for me, yeah?” Malkuth gave a tired smile, which seemed to mollify Chesed from questioning her further, earning a nod. She quickly made her way back down as the older man walked up. She could sleep after letting her assistants handle organizing the books for her floor. Still, she knew what she heard.

It was hard to forget the voice of the manager, after all.

* * *

Philip frowned, looking up into the endless darkness above him. Out of the corner of his eye, Debug sipped her coffee, before finally speaking, “Well, that was enlightening…”

He raised an eyebrow, giving her a questioning look. The sort-of-copy of Yuna shrugged, “Hey, if nothing else we know Yuna and Salvador are ready. You too, presumably. Doesn’t give you much more time to plan, though.”

The ex-Dawn fixer shrugged himself, standing up and flexing his arms to loosen his muscles. He didn’t really have much of a plan to begin with, admittedly. While the last few days that Angela had kept his book on her person were enlightening, he had only a few more details to a picture he was quickly realizing was far, far bigger than he anticipated. Just how deep did the history of the Library go, if everything from L Corp to the Shi were involved? And a director of the Shi working with the Library? Living in it? And Angela was willing to recruit even more people, possibly even his Master and Seonbae?

A silent sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his forehead. He didn’t know if he could face them, if Angela even let him out. Debug cleared her throat, interrupting his thoughts, “Hey. She did want to apologize to your face, Philip. She’ll let you out soon enough.”

She stood up, cracking her neck as she set down her coffee, “Though Iunno what will happen to me afterwards. If I had to guess? I’ll probably just go back to being a part of the Library again.”

He looked to her, not even bothering to hide the shock on his face. Debug shrugged, “Eh, I know it’s coming. Besides, I’ll still exist. Maybe not the exact same, but I’m not too worried.”

Philip could only nod. It was expected that she would disappear after he left his book, but it was still a bit surprising. She had, if nothing else, kept his mind and body busy while he was trapped. Debug rolled her shoulders, pulling the cello case from her back a moment after. Despite not wanting to initially, he had finally relented and agreed to spar against her. He could actually manage his partially-distorted body easily, even control the heat and flames produced. Perhaps he wouldn’t need it to save Master and Seonbae, but it would be useful.

After all, that last piece of him was still out there in the City. The Unspeaking Child, last of the Crying Children. It still carried his voice. And if the distorted piece of himself managed to do anything…

“Oi, Philip,” Debug’s voice, near-perfectly imitating Yuna’s tone and inflection, pulled him out of his own head, “Focus. If you want to do anything about it, you’re going to need to have the strength and skill to do so.”

He nodded, sighing, before raising his blade and taking a ready stance. Debug gave a smile, before pressing a button on the side of her cello case. He’d get out and use the strength he’d gained to make a difference. He just had to be patient.

Philip charged forwards, a gust of heat and flames trailing behind him and catching his extended wing. He rode with it, spinning rapidly through the air and slamming his searing sword down onto the bladed arms of Debug’s weapon. The copy of his coworker twisted, sidestepping his follow up and hopping back, before charging forwards.

They went at it, a myriad of roaring flames and clashing blades ringing through Philip’s book, unseen and unheard to those outside of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the by, next chapter is the Shi Association South Section 2's first reception. Including their outfit designs. The rest you'll see when the next chapter is finished... hopefully before another month has passed.


End file.
